TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 


LILLIAN  PETTENGILL 


TOILERS    OF    THE    HOME 


Toilers  of  the  Home 


The  Record  of  a  College  Woman** 
Experience  as  a  Domestic  Servant 


BY 

LILLIAN  PETTENGILL 


NEW  YORK: 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1903 


Copyright,  1903,  by 
John  Wanamaker 

Copyright,  1903,  by 
Doubleday,  Page  &  Company 
Published,  September,  IQOJ 


FOREWORD 

I  AM  a  servant  girl,  and  I  work  in  the  kitchen 
of  strange  women  for  my  daily  bread. 

I  was  not  born  to  the  life,  like  Topsy,  nor  did 
I  slide  into  it  along  the  line  of  least  resistance,  as 
into  an  inheritance  from  my  forbears.  Quite  the 
contrary.  Why  am  I,  then,  as  I  am  ?  Because  I 
have  observed,  heard,  read  and  believed  that  the 
respectable  American  girls  who  work  will  cheerfully 
starve  and  suffocate  in  a  mill,  factory  or  big 
department  store,  or  live  almost  any  other  kind 
of  life,  rather  than  grow  healthy,  fat  and 
opulent  in  domestic  service;  and  this  when  the 
housekeepers  do  all  but  stand  on  the  street  corners 
as  they  pass,  beseeching  them  to  come  in  and  help. 
How  can  my  countrywomen,  with  their  own  living 
to  make,  be  so  blind  to  the  butter  side  of  their 
bread  ?  This  is  what  I  propose  to  find  out. 

It  were  vain  to  expect  light  from  the  revealed 
experiences  of  housekeeping  friends.  These  only 
recite  their  own  woes:  which  are  the  failures  and 
shortcomings  of  many  maids,  past,  present  and 
possible  to  the  future ;  or,  without  woful  experience, 
they  recite  their  own  virtues  and  theorize  vaguely. 

Nobody  says  anything  about  the  woes  of  the 
serving-maid.  Has  she  none?  It  were  peculiar, 
with  so  much  to  be  said  on  one  side,  if  there  were 
nothing  at  all  for  the  other.  It  may  be  that  house- 
keeping women  do  not  themselves  understand  the 


373643 


vi  FOREWORD 

details  of  their  business,  or  the  importance  of 
system,  the  ignorance  ''of  which  they  so  deplore 
in  their  underlings.  That  were  a  fatal  lack  for 
any  director.  Perhaps  some  do  not  understand 
the  gentle  art  of  supervision,  the  management 
of  people.  Perhaps — oh,  perhaps  any  number  of 
things. 

I  have  tried  to  talk  with  my  friend  Gretchen,  who 
is  in  chronic  discontent  with  her  lot.  "  Living  out 
is  very  hard  and  very  hateful,"  she  says.  "I 
wouldn't  be  here  if  I  could  do  anything  else; 
perhaps  sometime  I  will.  I'd  like  to  be  a  nurse." 

"But  why  is  housework  so  bad,  Gretchen?"  I 
asked.  "  You  wouldn't  mind  doing  it  in  a  house  of 
your  own?" 

"Oh,  no;  I'd  but  like  the  chance;  but  when  you 
live  out  you  haven't  any  place.  Nobody  wants  to 
associate  with  you. " 

That  seems  to  me  a  trivial  reason,  hardly  worth 
the  proving  if  it  be  true,  certainly  too  slight  for 
influence;  but  it  troubles  Gretchen  more  than  any- 
thing else.  Had  I  been  less  eager  to  bring  her 
to  my  way  of  thinking,  to  prove  to  her  that  such 
an  attitude  toward  one's  work  is  unworthy,  the 
conference  might  have  been  more  satisfactory. 
Perhaps  Gretchen  hesitated  to  speak  at  all,  lest  she 
appear  to  make  claims  for  herself,  and  lest  her 
reasons  should  not  find  respect. 

"Oh,  you  don't  know  anything  about  this  life," 
she  said  at  last,  "and  I  can't  tell  you.  You  have 
to  have  the  experience ;  only,  I  hope  you  never  will 
have  it  anything  like  such  as  I've  had  it." 

My  sympathy  with  Gretchen  is  not  complete,  I 
confess.  I  cannot  see  why  she  doesn't  put  more 


FOREWORD  vii 

energy  into  her  work,  and  so  make  time  for  herself. 
I  don't  see  why  she  doesn't  get  upstairs  at  night 
before  nine  o'clock.  She  has  only  the  dishes  for 
five  people  dining  at  half -past  six,  possibly  a  little 
picking  up  around  the  kitchen,  or  bread  to  mix,  and 
the  table  to  reset  for  breakfast.  But  Gretchen  is 
good  and  faithful  and  particular  about  her  work. 
I  am  sorry  she  has  had  the  accident  of  being  unfor- 
tunate in  her  situations.  A  girl  who  is  obliged  to 
bristle  with  defensive  pins  all  around  her  waist 
while  about  her  Sunday  morning  work  is  most  acci- 
dentally unfortunate.  The  necessity  is  not  desirable, 
though  she  be  physically  able  to  seize  her  employer's 
husband  by  the  coat  collar  and  thrust  him  into  the 
back  yard  for  safe  keeping,  until  the  coming  of  his 
wife  from  church  shall  release  him.  One  may  not 
offer  such  cause  for  dissatisfaction  to  her  mistress; 
one  may  only  leave  the  place.  But  now  that 
Gretchen  has  a  good  place,  with  kind  and  decent 
people,  I  can't  see  why  she  is  not  content. 

Gretchen  was  aghast  at  my  plan  for  taking  up  her 
work.  "Oh,  no;  don't  do  that,"  she  implored. 
"It's  no  place  for  you.  You  get  some  office 
work,  or  something;  anything  is  better  than  this. 
Indeed,  Miss  Pettengill,  I'd  not  like  to  see  you 
out  doing  housework." 

But  how  else  am  I  to  learn  what  I  would  know? 
Gretchen  cannot  tell  me,  and  I  am  likely  to  wait  long 
before  one  of  her  class  pictures  to  the  public  the 
conditions  of  their  industrial  life.  Neither  pen  nor 
brush,  scrub-brush  excepted,  has  so  far  been  effec- 
tive in  their  hands.  Meantime  their  mistresses  are 
reading  and  writing  their  string  of  platitudes,  and 
exchanging  their  gossip;  and  while  we  await  the 


viii  FOREWORD 

champion  of  the  under  dog  I  have  turned  the  glass 
for  a  look  upon  the  ups  and  downs  of  this  particular 
dog-life  from  the  dog's  end  of  the  chain.  That  is 
why  I  am  as  I  now  am. 

I  did  not  jump  into  my  present  life  upon  the 
impulse  of  a  moment.  It  is  two  years  since 
domestic  service  almost  became  a  fact  for  me 
as  an  alternative  to  starvation.  That  was  in  New 
York  City,  of  course.  With  much  courage,  more 
ignorance  of  how  to  meet  conditions,  and  no 
experience  in  anything,  I  was  learning  there  the 
lesson  which  it  is  the  peculiar  province  of  that  city 
to  teach  ambitious  fledglings  with  slender  means. 

I  wanted  some  sort  of  a  journalistic  opening 
suited  to  my  peculiar  temper  and  inexperience, 
which  should  have  a  living  wage  attached  and  be  a 
pathway  to  higher  things;  but  I  was  very  soon 
applying  for  every  sort  of  a  "want"  in  the  news- 
paper columns,  and  rinding  that  a  new  sheepskin 
from  a  fondly  regretted  alma  mater  added  too  little 
to  industrial  attractiveness.  Seeing  hard  times 
ahead,  I  considered  the  multitude  of  domestic 
"wants"  at  eighteen  and  twenty  dollars  a  month, 
no  board,  carfare  or  laundry  bills ;  I  even  applied  to 
one  woman  with  a  family  of  five,  who  agreed  to  let 
me  do  her  upstairs  work,  wait  on  the  table  and 
have  an  eye  to  two  grandchildren  for  sixteen  dollars 
a  month. 

"I've  already  engaged  a  girl,"  said  the  woman, 
who  was  a  comfortable  sort,  "but  she's  as  likely  not 
to  come  as  any  other  way.  You  never  can  tell 
whether  they'll  do  as  they  say,  and  I  didn't  think 
much  of  this  one  to  begin  with;  but  there  wasn't 
inuch  choice  in  those  who  came  this  morning.  I 


FOREWORD  ix 

want  somebody.  If  you  want  the  place  you  may 
come  to-morrow  and  I'll  give  it  to  you.  But  I 
should  think  the  light  work  in  a  flat,  for  two  in  the 
family,  with  the  wash  and  ironing  done  out,  would 
be  better  for  you.  Often  I've  met  ladies  so  situated 
who  want  somebody  genteel-like,  so  they  can  sit 
down  together  in  the  afternoon  with  the  mending. 
You  don't  look  very  strong." 

I  took  leave  of  the  good  woman  and  meditated.  I 
did  not  go  to  her  the  next  day.  I  decided  to  wait  a 
little  longer  before  seeking  the  genteel  vacancy  in  a 
flat. 

And  am  I  prepared  for  this  new  labor  of  mine,  so 
that  I  give  adequate  return  for  my  three  dollars  per 
week? 

Of  a  surety  I  am  prepared.  I  believe,  with  my 
kind,  that  any  woman  with  health,  ordinary  intelli- 
gence and  determination  can  do  housework.  I 
have,  besides,  the  memory  of  having  been  com- 
pelled at  intervals  to  various  and  considerable 
achievements  with  the  implements  thereof.  I  have 
sojourned  very  pleasantly  with  Mrs.  Barnes,  a 
worthy  matron  living  on  the  outskirts  of  a  self- 
important  little  town  which  one  may  reach  after 
a  deliberate  journey  behind  the  wheezy,  weary 
old  engine  of  frequent  rests,  and  reach  very 
comfortably — with  sufficient  patience  and  good 
humour.  Four  weeks  with  Mrs.  Barnes  sufficed 
for  an  intimate  review  of  the  implements  of  my 
labour;  for  learning  to  make  "very  good  bread  and 
delicious  rolls" — a  high  trump  I  hold  this  to  be, 
having  three  times  confessed  to  the  accomplishment 


x  FOREWORD 

in  the  getting  of  my  first  place;  and  for  taking  so 
many  other  culinary  points  from  example  and  pre- 
cept that  I  cannot  hope  to  remember  the  one-half 
or  be  sure  of  the  other.  One  more  excellent  quali- 
fication I  have  without  boasting:  having  already 
spent  a  long  time  in  this  country,  and  that  not  all 
in  one  section,  I  should  be  somewhat  accustomed 
to  Americans  and  their  ways,  and  as  quick  of  appre- 
hension as  the  average. 

I  left  Mrs.  Barnes  with  one  great  lack,  however:  a 
reference.  Readiness  and  intention  do  not  make  a 
servant  any  more  than  they  make  a  book.  A 
reference,  proof  that  she  has  served,  makes  a  servant 
— until  she  puts  on  her  apron;  but  unlike  some 
things  which  we  deem  necessary,  a  reference  is 
easily  gotten. 

"Am  I  honest,  Mrs.  Barnes?  and  capable,  willing 
and  good-tempered?" 

"Why — I — I  hope  you  are.  I  don't  know  that 
you  are  not." 

"You  have  never  found  me  otherwise  in  all  the 
time  I  have  been  with  you?" 

"No,  indeed." 

"And  would  you  be  willing  to  write  to  that  effect 
to  any  one  who  should  inquire  of  you  about  me  ?" 

"Yes." 

So  I  wrote  my  own  reference — they  say  it  is  a 
good  one. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Foreword .         .  v 

Chapter         I.     The  First  Step 3 

Chapter       II.     The  Lowest  Round           .         .         .         .  9 

Chapter     III.     In  the  Dispensary 35 

Chapter      IV.     As  It  Is  in  the  Zoo           ....  47 

Chapter       V.     Spinsters  Three 87 

Chapter      VI.     Degenerate  Israel     .         .         .         .         .  115 

Chapter    VII.     For  Seven  in  a  Suburb     ....  243 

Chapter  VIII.     Afterthought 359 


TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 


TOILERS  OF  THE   HOME 

CHAPTER  I 
THE  FIRST  STEP 

ONE  raw,  chill,  blowy  February  afternoon  I 
started  forth,  my  reference  in  my  pocket. 
Having  failed  to  find  the  especial  office  which  had 
been  recommended,  I  tried  a  Southern  bureau. 

An  intelligent,  pleasant-faced  coloured  woman, 
whom  I  mistook  for  an  attendant,  admitted  me, 
and  with  just  the  right  proportion  of  cordiality 
and  deference  to  invite  a  maid  wanting  a  mistress 
without  affronting  a  mistress  seeking  a  maid.  To 
this  latter  class  I  was  at  first  supposed  to  belong, 
and  was  shown  into  the  front-parlour  office,  where 
sat  one  lone  patron  in  its  exact  middle. 

Sinking  timidly  into  a  chair  by  the  corner  desk,  I 
preferred  my  request: 

"  I  want  a  place  to  do  housework,  please. " 

"You  want  a  place — where  you  may  work — for 
yourself?"  she  repeated.  Then,  "Are  you  experi- 
enced?" 

"Yes'm.  I  have  worked — er — in  my  home.  I 
never  worked  out  before ;  I  never  had  to. " 

"Oh,  then  you  are  just  starting  out,"  she  said 
encouragingly,  grasping  the  situation,  suggested 
tragedy,  and  all.  "Can  you  give  city  references?" 


4  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

I  named  a  friend  prominent  in  journalistic  circles, 
who  would  have  thought  long  before  remembering 
Eliza  Rogers.  But  he  was  not  referred  to.  I 
became  instead  the  subject  of  an  outline  study  with 
subdivisions,  which  resulted  in  my  favour.  My 
frank  and  honest  gaze  proved  her  satisfaction  and 
my  own  salvation.1*  She  questioned  me  as  to  my 
ability,  took  my  fee — one  dollar — and  sent  me  due 
nor' -by-nor' west  to  Mrs.  Alexander. 

Mrs.  Alexander's  furnishings  were  new,  rather 
nice,  and  not  too  abundant;  there  was  the  thin 
treble  of  young  children  upstairs,  too,  so  I  might 
have  known  the  Alexanders  for  young  people 
without  assistance  from  the  ingenuous  young  person 
in  glasses  who  admitted  me  and  remained  with  me 
while  I  waited  in  the  hall.  She  was  a  nurse — the 
young  person  with  glasses — and  only  accommo- 
dating Mrs.  Alexander,  whom  she  was  beginning  to 
think  "very  particular"  and  "long  in  getting 
suited."  She  did  her  best  to  show  forth  the  place 
attractively  and  hoped  I  would  suit  and  be  suited. 
She  was  eager  to  be  at  her  own  work  again. 

But  Mrs.  Alexander  was  not  hasty,  if  she  was 
girlish  and  an  ex-devotee  of  "society." 

"Why,  do  you  want  a  place  for  yourself?"  she 
asked,  as  she  led  the  way  to  the  simply  furnished 
parlour.  "  Can  you  cook  and  manage  a  heater  ? " 

"  I  can  do  plain  cooking, "  I  replied,  with  becoming 
modesty  and  great  faith  in  my  star;  and  though  I 
never  have  managed  a  heater,  I  could  if  the  draughts 
were  explained." 

"No,  I  suppose  it  wouldn't  be  difficult  to  learn, 
though  I  don't  know  the  first  thing  about  fires, 
myself,  not  even  about  a  range  fire.  I  never  touch 


THE  FIRST  STEP  5 

a  fire:  I  don't  want  to,"  she  confessed  with  an 
insinuating  smile  and  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders — and 
without  adding  to  fires  all  other  household  matters, 
as  she  might  have  done  honestly,  I  am  sure. 

"You  look  hardly  strong  enough  to  do  all  my 
work,  washing  and  ironing,  too;  are  you,  do  you 
think?"  She  was  an  attractive  little  lady  with  her 
bird-like  way,  coquettish  and v  alert.  She  wanted 
to  know  what  experience  I  had,  whether  my  home 
was  in  the  city,  and  how  long  I  had  been  here; 
then  she  paused,  and  having  considered  me  from 
top  to  toe,  remarked  with  much  enthusiasm  and 
for  all  the  world  as  if  I  were  a  prize  cow  up  for 
sale,  "You  are  a  nice  looking  girl;  yes,  a  very  nice 
looking  girl." 

My  old  business  suit,  which  had  been  out  to  the 
weather  daily  for  more  than  a  year,  had  indeed  worn 
well ;  but  then,  it  had  been  carefully  selected  to  that 
end.  I  thanked  Mrs.  Alexander  for  her  good  opin- 
ion, however,  relieved  that  she  did  not  punch  my 
ribs  to  see  whether  I  was  sound  all  the  way  through. 

"I  mean,"  she  added  nervously — I  was  glad  she 
had  the  grace  to  be  embarrassed — "you  look  as  if 
you  were  a  nice  girl — nice  to  have  around,  you  know ; 
so  different  from  most  of  the  girls  who  are  going 
around." 

At  this  point  I  offered  my  reference  as  a  contribu- 
tion to  the  subject.  She  took  it  eagerly,  though  she 
usually  depended  upon  her  own  judgment  of  a  girl's 
appearance,  and  read  it  aloud  to  herself  and  me, 
duly  emphasizing  all  the  adjectives. 

But  Mrs.  Alexander  did  not  engage  me.  I  sup- 
pose it  was  evident  that  I  had  never  "worked  out. " 
And  I  could  not  promise  to  stay  with  her  indefinitely, 


6  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

even  if  after  a  trial  I  should  "find  everything  all 
right."  She  was  regretful — she  was  so  sure  she 
would  like  me,  I  was  such  a  nice  looking  girl — but 
being  helpless  by  herself,  and  having  a  promise  from 
the  glasses  not  to  go  until  she  should  be  suited,  Mrs. 
Alexander  decided  to  wait  for  somebody  who  would 
be  sure  to  stay.  She  chose  wisely.  Had  I  gone  to 
her  intending  to  remain  a  period  of  years  it  would 
have  been  the  blind  leading  the  blind  and  then  the 
ditch.  Besides,  it  was  better  for  me  to  begin  with 
people  who  knew  something,  I  thought,  if  indeed  my 
"good  looks"  should  not  entirely  spoil  all  chance. 

So  my  first  trial  was  unsuccessful.  I  reported 
the  next  morning  to  my  Southern  friend  in  the 
bureau,  who  sympathized  feelingly  and  promised 
to  send  word  of  something  in  a  few  days.  I  had 
not  the  courage  to  try  another  office  that  morning, 
nor  yet  the  patience  to  wait  long.  After  two  days 
I  answered  a  newspaper  advertisement  for  a  general 
housework  girl  which  brought  me  to  the  Barrys', 
where  Mrs.  Wakefield,  Mrs.  Barry's  sister,  has 
engaged  me  for  one  week  on  trial. 

"I  think  that  is  the  best  way,"  she  said.  "And 
then  we  can  decide  each  for  herself,  and  there  is 
no  mistake. "  But  she  thought,  "  You  are  so  small ; 
you're  without  experience,  never  having  lived  out 
in  the  city;  and  we  are  a  family  of  eight." 

It  is  a  family  of  eleven  so  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
for  Mrs.  Barry's  nephew,  James,  the  coloured  coach- 
man, and  myself  eat  here. 

Mrs.  Wakefield  did  not  tell  me  I  was  a  nice 
looking  girl.  Probably  she  would  not  have  said 
it  if  she  thought  so,  though  I  doubt  if  she 
remarked  anything  extraordinary  in  my  appear- 


THE  FIRST  STEP  7 

ance.  I  desire  above  all  things  to  seem  like 
other  girls,  and  as  an  attempt  to  that  end  I  have 
adopted  for  outdoor  wear  a  black,  curleycued  cloth 
coat,  fashioned  in  the  winter  of  '96-9?.  For 
indoors  I  have  dropped  my  old  ways  and  taken  new, 
fashioned  after  the  timidly  reserved,  unobtrusive 
and  monosyllabic  Gretchen.  It  is  not  hard  to  appear 
timid  and  shrinking  in  my  new  life.  I  am  really  so ; 
and  monosyllables  come  naturally. 

The  Barry  family  live  in  an  aristocratic  section  of 
the  city,  in  a  big  house,  on  a  big  plot  of  ground; 
there  is  lawn  and  breathing  space  on  all  four  sides. 
I  feared  I  know  not  what  as  I  went  up  on  to  the 
spacious  porch  with  its  many  white  pillars,  and  rang 
the  bell. 

Mrs.  Barry's  sister,  Mrs.  Wakefield,  is  as  different 
from  Mrs.  Alexander  as  woman  could  well  be.  She 
came  to  me  in  the  library  in  a  calico  wrapper  of  such 
kind  as  is  most  popular  in  rural  districts.  A  heavy, 
gray-haired  matron,  with  a  good,  kind  face  whereon 
by  right  there  should  rest  that  peace  which  comes 
from  the  brooding  of  the  inner  light.  She  seems, 
instead,  like  one  who  knows  both  constant  worry 
and  absolute  resignation,  if  that  be  possible ;  as  if  the 
worst,  already  once  known,  were  daily  expected  again. 

"You  advertised  for  a  girl  to  do  housework?"  I 
suggested  haltingly,  after  she  had  said  "Good- 
morning"  with  a  rising  inflection. 

"Yes;  do  you  want  a  place  for  yourself?" 

I  answered  then,  "  Yes,  ma'am"  and  "  No,  ma'am" 
to  many  businesslike  questions — the  "  a"  in  "  ma'am" 
being  flat  as  in  the  vulgar  colloquial.  I  listened 
also  to  what  must  have  been  a  fair  and  honest 
exposition  of  the  family  life  and  routine ;  but  it  was 


8  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

spoken  in  a  spiritless  way,  as  a  story  told  often  to 
weariness. 

"I'd  like  you  to  see  my  sister,  who  is  ill  upstairs, " 
said  Mrs.  Wakefield.  "She  has  been  sick  all  winter 
— nothing  contagious,"  she  added  with  a  quick  look 
to  see  how  I  took  it.  "  She  had  a  stroke  last  summer 
and  has  been  ill  ever  since ;  but  she  is  still  the  head  of 
the  house,  though  practically  I  have  charge.  I  con- 
sult her  when  she  is  able.  Will  you  come  upstairs  ? " 

I  assented,  of  course,  and  stood  in  embarrassed 
silence  while  a  feeble,  colourless  little  woman  looked 
me  over,  speaking  peevishly  the  while  of  her  long 
confinement  indoors.  She  remarked  that  I  was 
small  and  the  family  large,  but  in  the  end  gave 
doubtful  approval. 

"You  are  a  Protestant,  I  suppose?"  she  asked,  as 
an  afterthought. 

"  Yes,  ma'am, "  I  answered.  And  then,  bethinking 
me  of  what  is  supposed  to  be  the  servant  girl's  chief 
interest  in  life,  "  Can  I  have  an  afternoon  out  ? " 

"Oh,  yes,  we  always  give  an  afternoon  out,"  said 
Mrs.  Wakefield;  "every  Thursday  and  every  other 
Sunday,"  with  another  quick  look  to  see  if  I  were 
satisfied.  "Or,  in  place  of  Thursday  you  may  have 
any  other  one  afternoon  except  Monday  or  Tuesday, " 
she  added. 

Finally  she  showed  me  the  room  I  was  to  have. 

"I  always  like  to  have  a  girl  see  it  before  she 
comes,"  she  said. 

I  took  the  car  for  downtown  and  went  to  tell 
Gretchen  that  I  had  a  place  at  last. 

"I  wouldn't  have  believed  it!"  said  Gretchen. 
"Well,  you  won't  stay  in  it  long  if  there  are  eight  in 
the  family." 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  LOWEST  ROUND 

GRETCHEN  was  right  in  thinking  I  would  not  stay 
long  at  the  Barrys'.  I  left  them  after  four  weeks, 
though  hardly  for  the  reason  she  expected,  perhaps. 

The  work  allotted  to  me  there  was  not  excessive, 
nor  would  I  have  found  it  so  hard  had  I  not  gone 
to  it  all  unprepared  by  sedentary  habits.  Mrs. 
Barnes,  having  already  efficient  help  with  her  work, 
had  not  encouraged  me  to  active  practice.  That 
first  Saturday  morning,  therefore, — I  arrived  on 
Saturday — when  I  began  to  sweep,  the  broom  felt 
awkward  to  my  hands ;  I  had  forgotten  how  to  hold  it. 

Naturally,  the  weariness  from  the  first  week's 
labour  was  extreme;  that  from  the  first  day  came 
very  near  being  agony.  I  have  heard  people  tell  of 
being  too  tired  physically  to  rest,  without  believing 
the  condition  literally  possible.  I  know  better 
now.  That  first  Saturday  night  I  could  have  dia- 
gramed most  of  the  muscles  in  relative  position 
by  their  respective  aches;  and  the  different  joints 
also.  The  bed  was  harder  than  that  to  which  I  had 
lately  been  accustomed,  and  in  quietness  there  was 
no  rest.  I  turned  and  flopped  every  few  seconds 
for  three  hours,  and  then,  after  a  doze  of  three  hours 
more,  awoke  for  good  at  four  o'clock  on  Sunday 
morning,  so  lame  that  I  doubted  if  I  should  ever  be 
able  to  get  up.  The  excitement  of  the  situation 

9 


io  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

and  the  fear  lest  I  oversleep  helped  to  me  wakeful- 
ness,  I  suppose.  The  friends  whom  Gretchen  served 
had  seen  me  appear  in  the  dining-room  with  the 
meat  and  muffins  often  enough  to  be  justified  in 
very  discouraging  prophecies  on  this  point.  But 
such  warnings  were  not  really  necessary ;  I  knew  my 
weakness,  and  the  terror  of  such  failure  was  ever 
real  enough  to  open  my  eyes  rather  too  early  if 
anything. 

Mrs.  Wakefield  had  been  glad  to  see  me  arrive 
that  Saturday  morning,  though  not  exuberantly  so. 

"You'll  want  to  go  to  your  room  first,  I  suppose; 
you  may  go  right  up.  Rachel,  my  sister,  is  on 
that  floor.  'Rachel!'"  she  called,  "/Eliza  has  come; 
she  is  coming  up. ' ' 

I  started  upstairs  thinking  how  queer  it  was  for 
her  to  be  talking  about  an  Eliza  just  then,  as  if  she 
had  mixed  me  up  with  that  strange  person.  The 
second  landing,  however,  brought  the  reflection  that 
I  was  now  Eliza.  Luckily  for  me,  an  alias  is  easily 
managed. 

Sister  Rachel,  pleasantly  philanthropic,  met  me 
at  the  third-floor  landing  and  led  the  way  to  my 
room.  I  did  not  ask  her  to  enter — I  do  not  know, 
except  as  I  pick  it  up  point  by  point,  the  etiquette 
of  my  new  station ;  it  seems  to  have  one  peculiar 
to  itself.  Miss  Rachel  made  her  observations  from 
the  far  side  of  the  sill,  therefore.  She  called  me  to 
notice  that  the  room  was  ready  and  that  the  bed 
had 'been  "  spread  up." 

I  said  "Yes'm,"  silently  remarking  at  the  same 
time  the  wash-stand,  where  were  displayed  in  order 
the  meager  toilet  service  and  a  clean  towel — a 
section  of  a  discarded  table-cloth — and  the  clean 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND 


ii 


sash-curtain  of  scrim  at  the  one  window.  Other- 
wise the  room  was  as  I  had  seen  it  the  day  before— 
a  repository  of  worn-out  gentility:  one  corner-table 
with  a  fringed  plush  cover;  one  marble-top  wash- 
stand  with  three  small  drawers ;  one  ancient  piano- 
stool  under  the  window,  also  with  a  fringed  cover 
upon  which  some  hungry  mouse  had  once  fed  boun- 
teously. (I  did  not  know  until  afterward,  when  I 
swept,  that  all  these  articles  of  furniture  divided  in 
their  joints.)  The  weather-worn  veranda  rocker 
was  the  best  of  four  chairs,  being  entirely  whole. 
There  was  also  a  single  wooden  bedstead  and  a 
dusty  patchwork  carpet  around  it.  Quilt  ing-frames 
and  a  tall  step-ladder  stood  in  the  most  inconspicu- 
ous corner,  and  the  pasteboard  boxes  under  the  bed 
made  shift  for  bureau  drawers. 

It  wasn't  very  cheerful,  somehow,  but  I  didn't 
mind.  The  yellow  sunshine  came  in  aslant,  warm 
and  glorious:  one  thing,  at  least,  I  had  which  had 
not  been  worn  out  and  dumped;  and  I  took  the 
benefit  of  it  while  I  donned  my  new  blue-and-white 
gingham  dress,  apron  to  match,  with  clean  linen 
collar  and  bright  red  necktie.  (All  the  recent 
magazine  articles  advise  a  neat  uniform.) 

Mrs.  Wakefield  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  set  me  to 
work  when  I  reported  to  her  in  the  big  and  far  from 
immaculate  kitchen. 

"I'm  just  working  over  my  bread,"  she  said. 
"I'm  rather  late  with  it,  but  we  usually  bake 
a-Saturday.  I  don't  know  how  it's  going  to  come 
out  this  time,  I'm  sure.  There's  a  knack  in  mak- 
ing good  bread,  and  I  don't  always  hit  it." 

I  knew  too  little  about  bread-making  to  discuss 
it,  having  merely  watched  the  process  a  few  times. 


12  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

I  looked  on  at  Mrs.  Wakefield' s  work  for  a  few 
minutes,  embarrassed  to  be  doing  nothing ;  but  she 
had  given  me  nothing  to  do.  Mine  was  the 
strained  alertness  that  naturally  'goes  with 
one  into  an  untried  and  dreaded  place;  hence 
the  eagerness  to  be  at  some  work  for  its  own 
sake. 

A  rather  untidy  young  woman  was  in  the  oppo- 
site corner  at  the  sink,  just  finishing  the  morning 
dishes.  At  intervals  she  gave  forth  a  hoarsely 
guttural  groan  or  sigh,  which  was  distressing.  She 
turned  about  presently,  and  Mrs.  Wakefield  pre- 
sented me. 

"  Her  name  is  Eliza, "  she  said. 

The  young  woman  was  Miss  Clara,  the  oldest 
daughter.  I  waited  for  her  to  acknowledge  the 
introduction  in  some  way,  but  Miss  Clara  only 
stared. 

"She  is  entirely  deaf,"  explained  Mrs.  Wakefield; 
"yet  she  understands  by  reading  the  lips;  she  talks 
a  little,  too,  but  hoarsely  and  not  well,  for  she 
cannot  hear  herself  even.  You  may  not  be  able  to 
understand  at  first." 

I  was  not,  though  some  words  were  easily  distin- 
guished. The  wonder  was  that  any  were. 

Miss  Clara  turned  back  to  her  dishes;  having 
finished  them,  she  was  told  to  "show  Eliza  how  to 
sweep  the  dining-room" — that  is,  get  it  ready  to  be 
swept.  But  Mrs.  Wakefield  followed  to  see  that  I 
understood,  and  came  in  afterward  from  time  to 
time  to  note  the  progress.  She  was  solicitous  lest  I 
be  not  strong  enough  to  carry  the  chairs  into  the 
hall,  or  to  move  the  table,  which  was  on  casters. 
I  am  small ;  but  I  answered  her  by  seizing  the  big 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  13 

arm-chair  and  bearing  it  forth  with  apparent 
ease.  Really,  I  found  it  heavy. 

The  sweeping  of  that  dining-room  was  an  effort, 
one  hour  and  a  half  prolonged.  The  carpet  was 
thick  and  long-piled,  very  expansive,  very  dusty, 
and  full  of  short  white  hairs.  The  little  fox-terrier 
"purp,"  Benny,  and  his  mother,  Nixie,  roamed  at 
large.  The  exercise  was  the  "all-over"  kind.  It 
had  been  seven  months  since  I  had  pretended  to 
sweep  a  carpet,  and  all  the  energy  I  could  summon 
was  needed  behind  the  broom  if  I  hoped  to  produce 
any  effect.  I  did  produce  a  very  obvious  effect, 
for  when  I  finished  the  carpet  was  clean  swept. 

The  sweeper  was  clean  "  winded,"  but  Mrs. 
Wakefield  proposed  no  other  task  for  several 
minutes.  I  had  wanted  to  put  on  a  clean  table- 
cloth, but  she  had  discouraged  the  idea.  And  such 
a  table-cloth  as  it  was !  It  almost  gave  me  a  turn, 
as  I  helped  Miss  Clara  lay  the  plates  for  lunch.  If  I 
had  been  the  Barrys — Mr.  Barry,  I  mean — I  would 
have  chosen  more  table-cloths  per  week  and  less 
plated  silver.  But  fresh  linen  was  sacred  to  but  one 
day  of  the  seven — Sunday — being  chosen  and  laid 
out  for  me  after  breakfast  by  Miss  Arleen. 

Miss  Arleen  went  every  morning  to  market,  also, 
having  first  advised  with  Mrs.  Wakefield ;  but  there 
her  headship  apparently  ceased.  The  experience 
and  the  judgment  belonged  to  "Aunt  Mary,"  of 
whom  I  saw  the  most  and  to  whom  I  went  for  direc- 
tion. As  I  stood  about  in  the  kitchen,  at  work  or 
at  leisure,  Mrs.  Wakefield  talked  to  me,  often  of 
family  matters  in  which  I  had  hardly  a  passing 
interest.  That  first  day,  indeed,  I  scarcely  heeded 
her  for  the  consciousness  of  being  strange.  Mr. 


i4  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Barry's  plans  for  repairs  in  the  spring  I  did  not  care 
for,  even  though  the  kitchen  would  then  be  fresh 
and  clean. 

"  It's  dingy  now,  and  the  walls  are  stained  in  that 
corner  by  the  dripping  from  a  leaky  steam-pipe  some- 
where between  the  floors.  We've  been  troubled 
by  that  leak  all  winter ;  it  keeps  that  farther  window 
stained,  as  you  see.  You  might  clean  that  window, 
if  you  want  to,  though  it  will  be  just  as  bad  as  soon 
as  the  pipe  leaks  again." 

I  said  "All  right,"  and  she  showed  me  where  the 
things  were. 

"  You  can  stand  on  that  stool  if  you  want  to. 
Clara's  polly  used  to  sit  there  and  watch  us  work.  I 
was  sorry  when  Polly  died  this  winter;  I  miss  her." 

If  the  pet  poll  parrot  had  to  die  after  being 
twenty  years  a  member  of  the  family,  I  was  glad  it 
happened  before  my  advent. 

"Shall  I  clean  the  other  window?"  I  asked  in  the 
freshness  of  enthusiasm. 

"I  suppose  it  would  look  better,"  was  the  reply, 
dryly  given. 

The  window  did  look  better,  as  she  said ;  but  clean- 
ing windows  is  hungry  work,  I  think.  I  was  doubly 
interested  to  see  Miss  Clara  rush  in  and  begin  active 
preparations  for  lunch.  She  began  to  slice  a  loaf 
of  scrapple,  a  most  villainously  disposed  mixture 
which  I  had  never  before  seen  in  the  raw  state,  pre- 
vious acquaintance  having  been  merely  a  rare  and 
passing  one  at  the  breakfast  table. 

"Let  Eliza  cut  it,  Clara— let  Eliza  cut  it.  I 
guess  she  knows  how  to  cut  a  bit  of  scrapple,"  said 
Mrs.  Wakefield. 

Miss  Clara  therefore  relinquished  the  knife,  and 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  15 

Eliza  cut  and  fried  some  of  the  most  belligerent 
foodstuff  she  ever  saw.  How  it  did  spit  and 
sputter,  to  be  sure !  How  I  did  wish  my  arms 
were  a  little  longer,  that  I  might  tend  it  from 
yet  farther  away ! 

"You  don't  have  to  stand  over  it  all  the  time," 
advised  Mrs.  Wakefield.  "It'll  cook  by  itself— 
there's  fire  under  it." 

I  laughed.  "I  was  afraid  it  might  run  away;  it 
seems  rather  active." 

It  was  evident  that  I  was  green. 

I  don't  remember  anything  else  about  the  lunch 
except  that  I  sat  down  to  some  chilly  remnants 
at  a  very  mussy-looking  dining-table. 

"You  would  eat  in  the  dining-room  as  soon  as 
the  family  is  through,"  Mrs.  Wakefield  had  said. 
'  'James  eats  in  the  kitchen,  at  his  own  table  and 
with  his  own  things.  We  wouldn't  ask  you  to  eat 
in  the  kitchen,  though  he  is  a  very  respectable 
darky,  and  very  civil  always.  He  has  worked 
here  for  Mr.  Barry  for  six  years." 

I  don't  know  that  I  should  have  minded  eating 
with  James  so  much.  Oh,  that  awful  cloth !  I 
didn't  want  to  eat,  anyway,  being  faint  rather  than 
hungry  after  the  long  wait  of  an  hour  and  a  half.  I 
gave  my  customary  refusal  to  both  tea  and  coffee, 
to  the  great  wonderment  of  Mrs.  Wakefield  and  the 
other  women  of  the  family.  Good,  philanthropic 
Miss  Rachel  thought  extra  milk  should  be  taken  for 
me.  The  food  provided,  though  of  the  same  as  had 
served  the  family,  was  not  tempting.  But  engines 
cannot  be  run  without  fuel,  nor  a  human  body 
without  food,  I  remembered,  and  so  managed  to 
surround  a  goodly  quantity  of  solid  provision.  It 


i6  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

was  quite  as  well  to  have  started  in  that  way, 
for,  tripe  only  excepted,  I  met  every  one  of  my 
pet  abominations  at  the  Barrys'  that  first  week. 
Well,  they  are  all  old  friends  now,  and  my  appetite 
is  fickle  no  more.  Certainly  there  was  always 
enough  to  eat,  if  not  always  at  the  moment  I 
would  have  preferred. 

It  was  only  the  breakfast  hour  with  which  I  felt 
inclined  to  quarrel.  I'm  sorry  I  never  before  realized 
how  exasperating  it  must  be  to  the  workers  when 
people  are  tardy  at  meals,  especially  at  the  first 
meal;  but  I  have  vowed  better  things.  My  first 
Monday  morning  breakfast  was  an  effort  and 
memorable.  For  on  that  morning,  as  Gretchen 
would  say,  "I  arose  to  prepare"  a  family  breakfast 
by  myself  for  the  first  time  within  recollection. 
More  than  that,  Mr.  Howard,  going  early  to  busi- 
ness— having  to  open  the  factory — must  be  served 
at  seven  o'clock.  The  responsibility  was  a  burden, 
especially  as  I  knew  not  the  first  thing  about  cream- 
ing beef  and  hardly  more  about  the  management 
of  a  fire.  I  awoke  while  it  was  yet  dark — half -past 
four  by  the  watch  under  my  pillow.  Too  early  to 
get  up,  not  early  enough  to  risk  another  nap, 
when  I  was  oh,  so  sleepy  !  I  left  the  light  turned 
on  that  I  might  not  lose  myself  beyond  recall. 

Suddenly  the  sound  of  a  heavy  snore  from  an 
adjoining  room  ceased  and  a  voice  began  to  call 
out.  I  thought  the  word  was  "Lyman!  Lyman!" 
—the  name  of  the  youngest  son,  whose  room  was  on 
that  floor.  But  whatever  Mr.  Barry  was  saying,  it 
was  queer  enough  of  him,  I  thought,  unless  he  was 
unconsciously  proclaiming  a  bad  dream,  which 
I  indeed  took  to  be  the  case.  At  quarter  of  six  I 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  17 

got  tip  and  dressed.  Opening  the  door  very  care- 
fully, lest  it  creak,  I  started  toward  the  stairs.  But 
I  was  not  quiet  enough,  for  the  voice  began  again. 
This  time  it  sounded  more  like  "Lizy!  Lizy!" 
But  not  having  been  hired  as  a  valet,  my  ears  were 
not  open  to  such  calls.  I  went  on  downstairs, 
cautiously  feeling  my  way  in  the  gloom.  It  was 
weird  enough. 

Somewhere  between  ten  and  thirty  minutes  past 
seven  Miss  Clara  came  out  to  tell  me,  "How-ard, 
my  bro-other,"  and  I  started  in  to  serve  him.  I 
paused  in  the  doorway,  really  startled  by  the  shoe- 
less, coat  less,  vestless  youth,  tying  his  necktie  on 
his  way  over  to  wind  the  clock.  It  was  but  a 
regular  occurrence,  however,  the  idea  evidently 
being  to  dress  on  the  stairs;  but  for  that  he  must 
always  have  come  down  too  quickly. 

Between  eight  o'clock  and  half -past  the  sound  of 
Mr.  Barry  in  the  dining-room  was  the  signal  for  me 
to  take  in  his  breakfast  of  steak,  bread  and  butter 
and  tea.  He  paused  in  the  putting  on  of  his  shoes 
as  I  entered  the  room — this  portion  of  his  toilet 
was  ever  reserved  until  he  had  taken  his  seat  at  the 
head  of  the  table ;  either  his  shoes  by  night  or  his 
slippers  by  day  stood  always  by  his  chair. 

' 'Eh? — er — good-morning,  Lizy,"  said  Mr.  Barry, 
something  of  peculiar  amusement  in  his  expression. 
"Were  you  sick  this  morning?" 

I  gave  a  wondering  negative. 

"What  time  did  you  get  up  this  morning?  I 
thought  I  saw  a  light  in  your  room  about  four 
o'clock;  it  shone  out  through  the  transom.  I  was 
trying  to  tell  you  it  was  too  early  to  get  up." 

"  I  got  up  at  quarter  of  six,"  I  replied  briefly. 


i8  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"You  don't  need  to  get  up  so  early,"  he  went  on, 
as  if  I  had  not  spoken.  "Six  o'clock  is  plenty  of 
time  to  get  up — plenty  of  time." 

I  withdrew,  allowing  to  myself  that  I  would  get 
up  when  I  chose.  It  had  not  been  absolutely  neces- 
sary, perhaps,  certainly  not  economical,  for  me  to 
burn  his  electric  light  that  morning  hour.  Still,  I 
felt  my  ways  to  be  sufficiently  circumspect  and 
within  the  bounds  of  prudence,  and  myself  well  able 
to  dispense  with  the  supervision  of  my  privacy  or 
the  interference  with  my  personal  and  independent 
pleasure  inside  my  own  room.  Mr.  Barry  was  a  sort 
of  domestic  tyrant,  anyway.  Mrs.  Wakefield  prac- 
tically said  as  much. 

"  Did  he  speak  to  you  at  breakfast -time  about  the 
light  in  your  room  this  morning,  Eliza?"  she  asked 
me.  "What  did  he  say?" 

"He  said  I  mustn't  get  up  so  early;  that  six 
o'clock  was  early  enough." 

"He  is  used  to  directing  the  children  that  way, 
and  he  doesn't  realize,"  explained  Mrs.  Wakefield. 
"But  you  mustn't  mind  what  he  says  to  you — 
when  it's  about  your  own  affairs,  I  mean.  It's  true 
enough  that  we  don't  want  anybody  who  works 
in  this  house  to  begin  our  work  before  six  o'clock. 
It  makes  the  day  too  long,  for  it  is  always  late  before 
everything  can  be  finished  up  at  night.  I  don't  think 
it  right  to  expect  such  long  days  of  anybody ;  and  it 
isn't  necessary  here,  for  if  there  should  be  more  than 
enough  for  one  to  do  comfortably  between  six 
o'clock  and  breakfast  somebody  can  be  down  to 
help  you.  You  don't  need  to  begin  so  early  for  our 
breakfast,  do  you?" 

"Only  because  it's  new  and  I'm  not  used  to  it," 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  19 

I  replied.  "  The  work  isn't  so  much  to  do,  and  after 
a  little  I  will  not  be  so  afraid  of  not  being  ready. 
But  Miss  Clara  was  up  already  when  I  came  down 
at  six  this  morning?"  I  finished  interrogatively. 
"She  was  down  at  five,  she  said." 

Mrs.  Wakefield  seemed  interested  in  a  peculiar, 
quiet  way.  "Clara  is  always  up  too  early,  and 
always  in  too  great  a  hurry  after  she  is  up.  You 
mustn't  try  to  go  by  her,"  she  said.  "  If  you  want 
to  get  up  early  on  any  account  of  your  own,  to  do 
anything  for  yourself,  it  is  nobody's  business  as  I 
can  see.  The  privilege  is  yours  to  take  as  you 
choose." 

After  Mr.  Barry  had  breakfasted  and  gone,  the 
rest  of  the  family  appeared,  one  by  one,  and  often 
with  as  many  special  orders,  until  half -past  nine. 
Such,  very  possibly,  had  been  the  custom  only 
since  Mrs.  Barry's  illness.  Surely  one  would  not 
have  wished  to  arouse  her  needlessly  by  a  breakfast 
bell.  None  the  less,  it  had  not  been  my  habit  to 
breakfast  three  hours  after  rising,  and  the  longer  I 
did  it  the  less  accustomed  I  became.  It  was 
expected  that  I  should  come  afterward — after 
some,  at  least,  so  I  waived  my  prejudice  and  took 
to  coffee — one  and  two  cups  while  I  waited — and 
grieved  that  I  had  nothing  more  ardent.  I  feared, 
besides,  the  possible  unpleasantness  of  having  some- 
body come  out  and  ask,  "Where's  all  that  steak?" 
or  remark  upon  an  unexpected  disappearance,  as 
might  happen  if  I  served  myself  before  I  was  told. 

I  believe  now  that  such  an  incident  would  have 
been  uncharacteristic  of  that  family,  and  had  I 
stayed  long  enough  to  feel  at  home,  really  at  home, 
I  should  regularly  have  cooked  for  myself  and 


20  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

eaten  as  soon  as  was  convenient.  For  the  long 
unfortified  wait  tends  to  sour  the  outlook  on  life 
before  the  morning  work  has  fairly  begun,  and  is  the 
source  of  much  unhappiness.  I  did  follow  this  plan 
one  or  two  mornings  at  the  last,  having  made  sure 
that  there  were  chops  enough  to  go  around.  Once 
Mrs.  Wakefield  came  in  and  found  me  eating 
with  James,  each  at  a  table  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
room.  A  most  peculiar  expression  passed  over  the 
matron's  face,  and  if  she  remarked  at  all  it  was 
merely  to  the  effect  that  I  was  "queer  enough." 

Because  I  was  in  the  kitchen  with  James,  probably ; 
but  of  a  truth  I  was  more  comfortable  so,  unless 
the  dining-room  was  empty.  In  this  particular, 
Gretchen  and  I  were  honestly  one.  Gretchen's 
people  insisted  sometimes,  when  there  was  room  at 
the  table,  that  she  go  in  and  eat  with  them;  but 
Gretchen  went  always  as  under  compulsion  and 
seemed  never  at  ease.  I  was  also  under  compulsion 
and  certainly  not  at  ease  on  one  particular  Saturday 
morning,  when  the  family  were  unusually  late. 

"  Eliza  !"  called  Mr.  Barry  from  the  dining-room. 

"Sir?"  said  I. 

"Have  you  had  your  breakfast  yet?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Why  not?" 

"I'm  waiting  for  the  rest." 

"Have  your  breakfast  right  away.  You  can't 
wait  for  everybody  here ;  you'd  be  waiting  all  the 
forenoon.  Eat  breakfast  always  as  soon  as  you 
care  for  it." 

But  Mr.  Barry  was  not  the  housekeeper. 

The  food  was  on  the  table,  and  I  went  in  to  serve 
my  plate. 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  21 

"Here,  Eliza!  What  are  you  going  away  for?" 
he  demanded  as  I  started  kitchenward  again. 
"Come  back.  Sit  down  here — sit  right  down!" 
as  I  hesitated. 

It  was  a  most  peremptory  command  and  I  sat, 
feeling  as  comfortable  as  a  cat  in  a  mill-pond. 
Suppose  Miss  Arleen,  into  whose  place  I  had  dropped, 
should  appear  and  be  wrath !  But  it  was  only  my 
sense  of  the  general  rule  of  my  caste  which  troubled 
me.  Miss  Arleen  would  not  have  cared;  indeed, 
one  morning  as  I  rose  to  leave  when  she  appeared  in 
the  dining-room,  after  Mrs.  Wakefield  had  sent  me 
in  to  my  breakfast,  she  said : 

"  Oh,  don't  go,  Eliza.  I  guess  we  can  eat  together 
without  its  hurting  either  of  us.  At  least,  I'm  not 
afraid  if  you  aren't." 

I  stayed,  of  course. 

The  afternoon  of  my  first  Saturday  with  the 
Barrys  was  hardly  different  from  any  other  after- 
noon, save  that  I  did  the  cleaning  more  thoroughly. 
After  lunch  Mrs.  Wakefield  and  Miss  Clara  retired 
without  comment  and  I  was  left  to  my  own  devices. 

There  were  the  dishes  to  be  washed  and  a  pile  of 
cookings  things  a  little  lower  than  Cheops.  I  found  I 
had  but  slight  taste  for  this  task ;  the  first  plunge  of 
my  hands  into  the  water  and  the  subsequent  grasping 
of  each  greasy  pan  was  a  distinct  moral  victory. 
Moreover,  my  back  began  to  ache  from  the  con- 
sumptive stoop  necessary  while  working  at  the  low 
sink,  though  I  stand  but  five  feet  two  in  my  shoes. 
When  I  found  that  I  could  sit  on  the  low  steps  and 
wash  dishes,  I  made  a  discovery  indeed.  The  steps 
brought  me  just  high  enough. 

I  went  upstairs  at  half  past  four  o'clock  almost 


22  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

dizzy  from  weariness ;  but  my  daily  medicine  proved 
sufficient.  What  rest  and  refreshment  there  is  in  a 
cold  sponge-bath,  to  be  sure  !  There  was  time,  too, 
for  me  to  lie  flat  upon  my  back  and  think  of  nothing 
for  half  an  hour. 

Half-past  five  had  seemed  early  enough  to  peel 
potatoes  for  the  half -past  six  dinner,  but  when  I  got 
downstairs  again  I  found  Miss  Clara  before  me. 

Miss  Clara's  interest  in  domestic  matters  was 
tolerably  constant,  but  her  success  lay  more  in 
promptitude  and  vigour  than  in  results  achieved,  I 
decided  afterward,  though  it  ill  becomes  me  to  be 
critical  of  her.  I  am  too  grateful  for  her  interest  in 
the  industrial  me.  Always  in  the  mornings  she  was 
down  early  to  help  start  the  simple  breakfast,  and  I, 
sometimes  doubtful  of  how  to  proceed,  was  glad 
enough  of  her  equally  doubtful  suggestions.  There 
were  many  evenings,  too,  when  she  came  down 
at  nine  or  half  past  to  help  finish  the  dishes. 
What  did  it  matter  that  she  invariably  put  on 
the  potatoes  in  cold  water,  and  the  steak  into  a 
cold  frying-pan  with  plenty  of  grease  for  a  twenty- 
minute  sizzle?  These  habits  annoyed  me  because 
I  knew  better  ways,  but  the  Barrys  seemed  never 
to  mind. 

After  dinner  was  on  the  table  I  went  into  the 
dining-room  to  pass  the  tea — a  service  which  was 
not  required  if  I  objected.  I  did  not  object,  of 
course,  though  I  sometimes  forgot  it  in  my  eagerness 
to  get  at  what  pots  and  pans  there  might  be. 
During  dinner,  too,  was  a  good  time  for  the  mixing 
of  the  bread,  which  I  baked  twice  a  week,  three 
double  loaves  at  a  time.  But  the  interminable 
dinner  dishes  I  could  not  get  through  much  before 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  23 

ten  o'clock.  Mrs.  Wakefield  came  down  just  as  I 
was  finishing  them  and  while  she  was  in  the  kitchen 
with  me  Miss  Arleen  looked  in  on  her  way  out  to 
the  drug  store. 

"  You'd  better  take  Eliza  along, "  suggested 
Mrs.  Wakefield  with  some  concern.  "It's  late;  I 
don't  like  you  to  go  alone." 

But  Miss  Arleen  scorned  the  idea  of  so  slight  a 
protector,  to  my  everlasting  thankfulness.  I  was 
already  dead  tired. 

"Well,  you  can  go  upstairs  when  you  like,  now, 
Eliza.  You  are  through,  and  tired,  probably.  It 
is  not  necessary  for  you  to  be  down  at  night,  after 
your  work  is  done,  and  I  shall  be  here  now  to  let  in 
Miss  Arleen  when  she  comes.  Breakfast  to-morrow 
will  not  be  until  half -past  eight,  and  I  shall  be  down 
to  show  you  about  it,  so  you  needn't  get -up  until  we 
call  you." 

"Yes'm,  thank  you,"  I  murmured,  and  departed 
without  loss  of  time. 

I  found  no  one  day  at  the  Barrys'  very  different 
from  all  the  other  days.  My  work  was  a  regular 
routine  without  interruptions  or  extras.  There  was 
no  demand  for  any  personal  service.  Miss  Arleen 
cooked  her  mother's  meals  and  prepared  the  trays. 
Somebody  came  downstairs  to  cook  Mr.  Lyman's 
lunch  when  he  came  late  from  school ;  if  it  was  a  cold 
lunch,  I  set  it  out  for  him.  Mrs.  Wakefield  or  Miss 
Arleen  made  the  occasional  desserts.  Mrs.  Wake- 
field  also  did  almost  everything  for  the  Sunday 
dinner,  which  was  a  little  more  elaborate  than  that 
of  other  days.  If  I  was  busy  at  noon  with  other 
work,  and  frequently  if  I  was  not,  Mrs.  Wakefield 
prepared  part  or  all  of  the  midday  lunch.  Miss; 


24  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

Clara  liked  to  do  upstairs  what  generally  falls  to  the 
lot  of  a  chambermaid.  She  liked,  also,  on  Tuesday 
morning,  to  help  with  the  ironing,  preferring  the 
starched  things,  of  which  there  were  but  few,  for 
the  finer  clothes  were  sent  to  the  laundry. 

For  my  own  part,  when  Sophie  came  to  wash  on 
Monday  I  helped  rinse  and  hang  out  the  clothes; 
and  Monday  afternoon  I  chose  to  iron,  for  the  big 
clothes-basket  was  always  full  and  it  was  a  comfort 
to  have  emptied  it  by  Tuesday  noon.  On  Tuesday, 
also,  I  baked  bread,  and  on  Saturday ;  one  other  day 
in  the  week  I  made  rolls.  On  Wednesday  I  had  two 
or  three  hours  of  leisure  between  breakfast  dishes 
and  lunch,  and  again  two  hours  between  lunch 
dishes  and  dinner  time.  One  Thursday  morning  I 
asked  for  the  silver-polish  and  cleaned  some  of  the 
silver.  I  would  have  done  it  oftener,  except  that 
when  I  asked  Mrs.  Wakefield  what  special  work 
there  was  for  me  the  first  Thursday  morning  she 
" guessed"  there  was  nothing  much,  as  Miss  Clara 
had  lately  rubbed  up  the  silver;  and  she  went  off, 
muttering  under  her  breath  that  I  was  a  queer  girl. 
Friday  mornings  I  swept  my  room,  the  heavily 
carpeted  halls,  and  cleaned  two  bath-rooms.  On 
Saturday,  as  at  first,  I  swept  the  dining-room. 
The  cleaning  of  the  kitchen  and  the  dishes  was  with 
me  always. 

My  part  in  the  programme  seemed  to  call  for  little 
save  strength.  When  the  muscles  began  to  harden 
and  the  labour  to  be  more  easily  managed — my 
time-saving  system  was  not  all  discovered  the  first 
day — I  realized  that  the  real  enthusiasm  with  which 
I  had  gone  to  my  new  work  was  waning;  that  my 
work  was  the  most  uninteresting  round  of  drudgery 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  25 

a  house  can  furnish,  and  that  I  had  indeed  begun  at 
the  very  bottom  round  of  my  professional  ladder, 
with  not  the  shadow  of  a  chance  for  rising  to  the 
next  one. 

In  the  cooking  alone  was  I  really  interested, 
chiefly,  perhaps,  because  I  could  not  do  it  well.  I 
had  fair  luck  with  bread  and  rolls,  both  of  which  I 
tried  at  the  Barrys'  for  the  first  time — with  fear  and 
trembling,  be  it  confessed;  and  they  found  very 
appreciative  consumers.  Besides  these  efforts,  I 
made  one  sponge-cake  which  didn't  sponge  properly 
because  the  oven  wasn't  right.  And  when  I  had 
done  these  things  I  had  done  all  I  knew.  With 
respect  for  cookery  as  a  fine  art,  I  yearned  to  be 
an  expert. 

I  once  confided  this  wish  to  Mrs.  Wakefield,  who 
received  it  sympathetically  enough,  though  without 
offering  to  teach  me  what  she  knew. 

But  I  ought  not  complain,  I  suppose;  my  failures 
were  taken  so  serenely.  This  or  that  "would  have 
been  a  bit  better,  perhaps,  if  it  had  cooked  a  little 
longer."  Sometimes,  indeed,  it  would  have  cooked 
longer  if  she  had  remembered  to  give  the  order  for 
it  in  time;  sometimes  not.  With  neither  experience 
nor  a  time  schedule,  I  was  always  uncertain  as  to 
whether  things  were  enough  done.  When  my 
French-fried  potatoes  came  out  a  beautiful  brown 
outside  and  a  tolerably  raw  inside  I  got  cold 
comfort : 

"Well,  we  don't  have  them  often." 

"But  why  were  they  so?"    I  insisted. 

"I  guess  your  lard  got  too  hot;  your  kettle  was 
thinner  than  the  one  we  commonly  use." 

I  had  purposely  selected  the  thin  kettle,  thinking, 


26  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

in  my  flurry,  to  save  time,  Miss  Arleen  was  so  late 
in  giving  her  order. 

I  poured  my  culinary  trepidations  into  Sophie's 
ears  one  Monday. 

11 1  know  how  to  do  so  few  things  !"  I  said. 

"Can  you  read?"  she  asked  abruptly. 

" Why— yes,"  I  stammered,  "I  can  read."  I 
couldn't  remember  having  been  asked  that  question 
since  I  was  five.  It  surprised  me. 

"Well,  you  just  get  a  receipt-book  and  that'll  tell 
you  everything,"  advised  Sophie.  "I  didn't  know 
how  when  I  began,  but  I  got  a  receipt-book,  and 
when  they  asked  me  if  I  could  make  the  things  I 
always  said  yes.  Then  I  did  just  what  the  book 
said." 

"And  did  they  always  come  out  right?  Didn't 
you  sometimes  make  mistakes?"  I  asked,  for  my 
faith  in  the  ordinary  "receipt-book"  is  wavering. 

"Why,  no.  How  could  I  make  a  mistake  when  I 
did  just  what  the  book  said  ?" 

I  decided  that  Sophie  had  found  that  for  which 
I  was  looking:  a  perfectly  reliable,  economical, 
common-sense  cook-book,  suited  by  the  simplicity 
and  completeness  of  its  directions  to  the  entirely 
ignorant.  But  Sophie  could  not  remember  its  name. 

"I'll  give  you  mine,"  she  said;  "I  can  make  all 
the  things  now." 

But  she  never  remembered  to  bring  the  book, 
even  after  I  had  bestowed  on  her — by  request — a 
faded  blue  flannel  waist  which,  solemnly  and 
on  the  spot,  she  dedicated  to  Sunday  wear 
exclusively. 

Sophie  didn't  mind  begging.  "Why  not?"  said 
she.  "They've  got  more'n  we  have,,  and  plenty 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  27 

for  us  both.     We  work  harder'n  they  do,  too,  and 
get  almost  nothin'  for  it." 

I  made  a  few  remarks  on  the  value  of  personal 
independence  and  self-respect,  but  it  was  like 
Choctaw  to  her — a  thing  new  and  foolish. 

Sophie  was  very  poor,  but  of  respectable  appear- 
ance, and  thin  almost  to  emaciation. 

"  Why  don't  you  live  out,  instead  of  working  out 
by  the  day?"  I  asked  her.  "I  should  think  you'd 
like  it  better." 

"Oh,  no;  I'd  rather  work  by  the  day,  because 
then  I  can  earn  more  money  and  be  at  home,  too. 
If  I  had  customers  enough  I  could  earn  nine  dollars 
a  week  working  by  the  day." 

"  But  don't  you  have  to  pay  rent  and  buy  food?" 
I  objected — I,  who  was  getting  only  one-third  of 
nine  dollars.  "I  shouldn't  think  you  could  make 
any  more  in  the  end." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do,  because  I  get  a  lot  of  things  at  the 
different  places  where  I  work.  They  give  me  food 
and  clothes;  and  my  husband  pays  the  rent." 

Now,  who  would  have  thought,  from  the  pride  of 
her  voice,  that  this  husband  paid  the  rent  out  of 
poor  Sophie's  wage  for  the  coming  week,  collected 
ahead  of  time.  Yet  such  proved  to  be  the  case- 
twice,  anyhow. 

"You  must  be  getting  rich  fast,  with  nine  dollars 
to  put  in  the  bank  every  week !  "  I  congratulated 
her. 

"Deed,  I  wish  I  was,  but  I  hain't  got  customers 
enough  yet." 

A  seven-year-old  boy  at  home,  poorer  living  and 
a  castle  in  the  air  compensate  Sophie  for  "  taking  a 
place."  Could  mortal  woman  without  the  strength 


28  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

of  Hercules  wash  ten  hours  a  day  for  six  days  a 
week?  It  would  mean  that  by  my  arithmetic,  at 
the  rate  she  charged  Mrs.  Wakefield.  There  are 
things  about  this  life  that  I  can't  understand,  of 
course.  One  of  them  is  how  a  woman  can  stand 
up  and  wash  hard  and  fast  as  Sophie  does,  if  not 
extra  clean,  on  two  cups  of  coffee  and  a  piece  of 
bread.  That  is  all  she  will  have,  though  Mrs. 
Wakefield  has  offered  her  a  regular  breakfast  to 
begin  on.  Does  she  fare  so  sumptuously  at  home? 

When  I  poured  Sophie's  coffee  the  other  morning 
at  quarter  of  nine,  I  felt  just  ill-natured  enough  to 
remark  that  I  was  hungry  myself. 

Sophie  opened  her  eyes  dramatically.  * '  I  always 
had  my  breakfast  before  the  family,  when  I  lived 
out,"  she  said.  "  What's  the  matter  with  you  going 
in  to  the  table  and  eating  with  them  ?  You're  just 
as  good  as  they  are !" 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  want  to  do  that, "  I  said. 

Questions  of  comparative  personal  worth  aside, 
I  recalled  the  Barrys'  disorderly  table  service  as  I 
had  observed  it  while  passing  the  tea  at  dinner,  and 
it  was  enough.  There  were  nine  people  at  the  table. 
Mr.  Barry  held  a  piece  of  meat  poised  aloft  on  his 
carving-fork  while  somebody's  plate  went  by  three 
people  and  back  again.  At  the  same  time  also  the 
potato  dish  went  the  rounds  from  hand  to  hand; 
likewise  at  the  same  time  individual  butter-plates, 
which  were  served  by  Miss  Arleen  from  somewhere 
in  the  middle,  were  passed  across  the  table.  As  for 
the  rest,  each  grabbed  for  the  thing  nearest.  It  was 
all  well  enough  if  they  liked  it  so,  only  of  late  I  had 
been  accustomed  to  a  different  way.  I  judged  from 
the  occasional  muttered  grumbles  afterward  that  I 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  29 

fared  quite  as  well  materially  to  wait.  Mr.  Barry 
had  not  learned  to  serve  impartially,  it  appeared. 
I  could  not  but  like  that  man  less  the  more  I  saw  of 
him,  though  he  was  an  honest  man,  I  am  sure. 

Mrs.  Wakefield,  on  the  contrary,  I  could  not 
dislike  personally,  and  on  one  point  only  can  I 
complain  of  her  management:  she  rarely  told  me 
without  being  asked  what  she  wished  made  ready 
for  any  meal;  and  I  must  needs  hunt  all  over  the 
house  to  learn  what  she  would  order  of  the  visiting 
grocer  and  the  fruit  man.  There  were  too  many 
department  heads  in  that  family,  I  decided,  when 
James  was  sent  to  the  same  store  for  the  third 
time  in  a  single  morning.  But  it  may  have  been 
the  single  head  of  one  department  who  was  in 
fault.  Always,  too,  allowance  must  be  made  for 
the  preoccupation,  from  the  worry  and  care  con- 
sequent upon  Mrs.  Barry's  illness.  Much  pathos 
there  was  in  what  Mrs.  Wakefield  told  me  of  the 
Barry  history  and  conditions,  moral  and  psycho- 
logical, and  she  told  me  much.  Why,  I  wonder  ? 

I  don't  know  just  why  I  was  not  satisfied  with 
my  place.  Certainly  I  was  never  more  justly  and 
considerately  treated,  and  respect  was  always  paid  to 
my  dignity — save  by  Mr.  Barry,  who  didn't  count. 
After  four  weeks,  only  the  ironing  brought  exces- 
sive weariness — I  would  that  I  were  ambidextrous. 
The  early  strangeness  had  worn  away  and  I  had 
found  myself  (in  the  Kiplingian  sense).  Even  my 
culinary  endeavours — not  wholly  satisfactory  to 
myself — met  with  neither  fault-finding  nor  criticism. 
Perhaps  it  was  this:  that,  having  endeavoured  so 
strenuously,  an  expression  which  one  might  read 
as  satisfied  surprise,  or  a  sigh  which  could  mean 


30  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

either  resignation  or  approval,  seemed  too  near 
indifferent  acceptance.  The  details  over  which  I 
cogitated,  being  referred  to  authority,  were  answered 
with:  "Oh,  either  way  is  good  enough;"  or,  "You're 
ambitious;  but  then,  you're  a  queer  girl  anyhow." 
This  is  one  way  to  cure  ambition,  I  would  like  to 
observe. 

Even  at  the  end  of  my  trial  week,  I  was  left  to 
infer  whether  I  suited. 

Mrs.  Wakefield,  returning  at  night  from  an  all- 
day  visit  of  mercy  in  the  country,  made  hushed 
inquiry  of  Miss  Arleen  in  the  pantry:  "Is  she 
still  here?" 

Standing  at  the  sink  on  the  far  side  of  the  kitchen, 
with  my  back  to  the  door,  I  knew  what  they  were 
saying.  I  confess  to  having  listened  after  the 
first. 

"Has  she  said  anything  about  going?"  came 
next. 

Presently  Mrs.  Wakefield  came  into  the  kitchen 
and  made  cheerful  observation  that  the  country 
roads  were  muddy.  And  later,  Miss  Arleen  laid 
my  three  dollars  upon  the  dresser.  She  had  for- 
gotten all  about  it,  or  she  would  have  given  it  to  me 
before,  she  said.  That  was  all.  Nobody  said, 
stay  on.  I  did  stay,  because  I  didn't  want  to  go. 
Was  it  not  a  queer  way  ? 

As  time  passed,  however,  I  chafed  under  the 
monotony ;  I  felt  my  isolation,  alone  in  a  big  house 
full  of  people,  with  whom,  though  kindly  and 
friendly,  I  could  not  feel  one,  for  I  was  not  of  them. 
Personal  devotion  might  have  grown  in  time,  I 
suppose,  but  in  four  weeks  the  germ  had  not 
sprouted,  i  had  no  visiting  friends,  and  no 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  31 

chance  for  any  sort  of  society  such  as  I  would 
have  chosen. 

In  this  dreariness  there  were,  of  course,  bright 
spots:  my  * 'every  Thursday  and  every  other 
Sunday."  What  a  jolly  click  was  that  of  the  gate 
behind  me  about  three  o'clock !  What  a  sense 
of  freedom  came  with  the  turning  of  'the  corner  ! 
I  took  the  next  car  for  town  in  an  ecstacy  of 
spiritual  exaltation.  Hyperbole?  It  was  a  hyper- 
bolic state. 

I  ought  to  have  been  satisfied  at  the  Barrys',  for 
it  was  a  good  place — the  table-cloth  was  sometimes 
less  unfortunate  than  when  I  saw  it  first,  or  my 
sensibilities  were  blunting.  But  the  excitement 
of  a  change  was  alluring.  I  might  get  a  better 
place — it  would  at  any  rate  be  a  new  one. 

My  first  farewell  I  said  on  Monday  to  Sophie, 
who  expressed  her  regret  in  fitting  terms,  assuring 
me  at  the  same  time  that  she  never  expected  to  see 
another  like  me.  She  offered  to  get  me  a  place  like 
one  she  had  had  once,  with  a  "lovely  lady,"  small 
family,  no  wash,  two  days  out  a  week,  and  all  for 
four  dollars ;  but  I  feared  she  might  forget  it  as  she 
had  forgotten  the  receipt-book  and  so  did  not 
depend  on  her. 

It  was  very  hard  to  give  notice  to  Mrs.  Wakefield, 
and  I  did  not  accomplish  it  until  mid-week.  I  had 
no  proper  excuse  for  going,  except  that  I  wanted  to. 

"I  have  to  tell  you  that  I  must  go  away  on  Satur- 
day," I  said. 

"Do  you?  Away  to  stay?"  she  asked  in  genuine 
surprise,  looking  the  more  steadily  into  her  mixing- 
bowl  rather  than  at  me.  "Away  for  good?  Not 
to  come  back  ? 


32  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Well,"  after  a  pause,  "I'm  sorry;  I  am  sorry. 

"I  thought  you  seemed  to  get  on  very  well/'  she 
said  again,  after  another  pause. 

"I  wouldn't  go,"  I  explained,  "only  I  want  to  go 
to  a  friend  in  the  country.  She  has  written  for 
me  to  come." 

"Do  you  want  to  go  in  the  morning,  or  will  you 
stay  until  the  bread  is  baked?" 

She  could  see  the  limp  in  my  excuse  as  well  as  I, 
though  she  gave  no  sign. 

I  promised  to  see  the  bread  through,  and  that 
ended  the  matter.  No  questions  were  asked  as  to 
why,  where,  or  how  long  since,  nor  was  the  matter 
spoken  of  to  me,  until,  with  my  bag  packed  and 
downstairs,  I  went  out  to  her  at  half-past  two  on 
Saturday,  in  curley  coat  and  expectant  expression. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  as  if  just  reminded,  "I've  been 
carrying  your  money  about  with  me  all  day,"  and 
taking  the  pay  envelope  out  of  her  apron  pocket, 
she  began  to  speak  immediately  of  some  trivial 
matter. 

"Well,  good-by,"  I  said  at  the  first  pause,  uncer- 
tain of  the  etiquette  of  the  occasion. 

"Good-by,"  she  said,  a  queer  smile  settling 
about  her  mouth.  Then  she  looked  at  me,  her 
face  flushed  and  her  eyes  suggesting  tears.  "I 
suppose  now  we'll  have  to  begin  all  over  again  and 
hunt  somebody  else,"  she  said  wearily.  "I  don't 
think  we're  hard  to  get  along  with." 

"I'm  sorry,  but  I  have  to  go,"  I  murmured,  staring 
at  the  wall  behind  her.  "Indeed,  I  think  you're 
very  nice  people  to  work  for,"  and  smothering 
an  impulse  to  take  off  my  hat  and  stay,  I  turned 
and  fled,  with  never  a  backward  look,  and  with  a 


THE  LOWEST  ROUND  33 

guilty  feeling  in  my  heart  as  if  I  had  done  a  wicked 
thing. 

But  I  did  not  want  to  stay  longer.  Mrs.  Wake- 
field  was  not  dependent  upon  me;  she  once  said: 
"I  can  get  along  without  a  girl  very  comfortably, 
after  I  get  used  to  it" ;  she  had  active  help  in  Miss 
Clara :  the  family  was  smaller  than  usual,  for  Mrs. 
Barry  and  Miss  Arleen  were  away  at  the  shore ;  and 
the  time  seemed  propitious.  But  I  knew  the  pangs 
of  remorse  for  three  mortal  hours. 


"She  did  not  offer  to  shake  hands  when  I  said 
good-by,"  was  my  comment  to  a  matronly  friend. 

"Oh,  we  never  do  that,"  was  the  quick  answer, 
accompanied  with  a  slight  elevation  of  the  nose. 
"At  least,  I  never  do." 

"Why  not?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  but  we  never  do." 

I  don't  know,  either;  it  seems  very  queer,  but 
perhaps  Gretchen  would  not  have  remarked  the 
omission. 


CHAPTER  III 
IN  THE  DISPENSARY 

ONE  has  been  accustomed  to  think  it  impossible 
— the  serving  of  two  masters.  One  should  know 
Mrs.  Lacy,  conserver  and  dispenser  of  intelligence. 
She  has  an  office,  of  course,  and  through  it,  I've  been 
told,  is  the  way  to  many  society  back  doors. 

I  called  upon  Mrs.  Lacy  on  a  Wednesday  morn- 
ing, my  heart  in  my  mouth  and  lead  in  my  feet. 
Tuesday  would  have  been  a  better  day,  could  I  have 
dared  so  soon ;  but  on  Wednesday  I  had  the  luck  to 
slip  in  behind  some  well-dressed,  modest-appearing 
girls  who  seemed  to  have  been  there  before.  I 
never  had. 

Having  entered,  these  new  friends  bunched  up 
in  a  narrow  hallway,  whispering  together,  while  I 
stood  just  behind.  In  a  minute  Mrs.  Lacy  came 
out  to  take  account  of  stock. 

"Come,  come,  girls,  you  must  move  on  into  the 
other  room.  They  won't  have  room  to  get  in  and 
out,  and  they'll  be  cross  with  me." 

The  girls  moved  on ;  I,  too — still  behind. 

"What  do  you  want?"  Mrs.  Lacy  demanded  of 
me,  briskly  familiar,  with  no  preliminary  whatever. 

"A  place  for  general  housework,"  I  answered, 
meekly. 

"Have  you  had  experience?  Have  you  a  refer- 
ence ?  Can  you  cook — make  good  bread  and  biscuit  ? 

35 


36  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

Oh,  then,  take  a  place  as  plain  cook,"  intimately 
confidential.  "It's  ever  so  much  nicer,"  and 
straightway  she  shoved  the  whole  half-dozen  of  us 
into  a  small  back  room  at  the  end  of  the  passage. 

The  room  was  already  too  full,  and  odorous  with 
the  mingling  of  many  breaths.  About  six  rows  of 
settees  and  wooden  chairs,  with  the  stove  in  one 
corner,  filled  it  quite  full;  and  all  the  places  were 
taken.  I  took  standing-room  near  the  door  and 
stood  leaning  against  the  wall  until  somebody  was 
called  out  and  I  was  beckoned  to  a  vacant,  place. 

Various  degrees  of  intelligence  and  prosperity 
were  represented  in  the  girls,  most  of  whom  sat 
stolidly  waiting  for  deliverance.  Those  with  whom 
I  had  gone  in  seemed  as  well-favoured  as  any,  but  I 
began  to  feel  self-conscious.  I  was  still  beside  them, 
and  they  all  wore  gloves;  I  had  none.  But 
presently  they  began  to  talk,  and  I  forgot  my  lack 
in  my  interest.  It  was  all  of  "  ladies  "  and  "  places," 
matters  of  which  I  knew  very  little. 

It  happened  that  there  were  many  chambermaids 
on  hand,  and  waitresses,  but  a  dearth  of  cooks. 

"A  cook  can  always  get  a  place,"  said  an  honest 
but  plain-faced  girl  with  glasses,  who  sat  beside 
me.  " What's  your  work?"  she  asked  of  a  more 
regularly  featured  sister  opposite. 

"I'm  a  chambermaid,"  was  the  answer.  "I  like 
to  cook,  but  the  heat  gives  me  indigestion.  What 
are  you?" 

"Waitress."  At  this  point  she  received  an 
invitation  out.  But  she  was  soon  back. 

"  Did  you  get  the  place  ?"  asked  a  timid  but  lady- 
like looking  girl  in  red. 

"No;  she  objected  to  glasses.'* 


IN  THE  DISPENSARY  37 

"Objected  to  glasses  !" 

11  Whoever  heard  of  the  like  !" 

"Why  did  she  object  to  glasses?" 

"I  don't  know.  There  was  some  other  reason,  of 
course.  I  told  Mrs.  Lacy,  and  she  said  she  guessed 
the  lady  didn't  know  what  she  did  want.  I  don't 
believe  she  did  either — objected  to  glasses!" 

At  this  point  Mrs.  Lacy  opened  the  door  and 
summoned  "Lizzie  I"  Lizzie  arose  and  walked 
out,  and  she  with  the  glasses  resumed: 

"  There  are  a  lot  of  ladies  here  to-day — but  yester- 
day ! — they  kept  coming  and  coming.  Some  of 
the  carriages  were  before  the  door  until  half-past 
twelve  o'clock.  Tuesday  is  the  best  day,  anyway, 
and  now  especially — so  many  girls  leave  to  get 
married  at  Easter." 

"And  a  good  many  of  'em  are  going  to  be  sorry, 
I  guess,"  put  in  a  solemn  one  who  had  not  spoken 
before. 

' '  Ah,  yes, ' '  assented  another  girl  in  black ; ' '  getting 
married  is  all  right,  if  it  is  all  right ;  but  if  it  isn't, 
you  couldn't  do  worse." 

"Yes,  it's  too  risky,"  agreed  the  ladylike  one. 
"We  don't  have  overpleasant  times  living  out,  but 
I'd  rather,  and  leave  once  in  awhile  for  what  I  did 
leave  for." 

"And  what  was  that?  Didn't  you  have  a  nice 
lady?" 

' '  I  don't  know ;  I  don't  like  to  say  she  wasn't  nice, 
but  she  was  very  hard  to  get  along  with — always 
wanting  this  and  that  and  getting  tired  of  it  before 
you  could  get  it  to  her.  She  didn't  have  anything 
to  do  but  to  imagine  the  girls  were  doing  things 
they  hadn't  ought  to,  and  she  was  all  the  time  pick- 


38  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

ing  at  'em.  She  didn't  know  what  she  did  want, 
anyway;  she  was  always  changing.  My  time  had 
come,  I  guess,  and  here  I  am." 

"There  must  have  been  some  excuse,"  observed 
she  of  the  glasses. 

"Oh,  yes,  there  was  excuse.  I  lied  to  her,  she 
said,  about  what  I  did  my  last  day  in  town.  She 
always  had  to  know  where  I'd  been,  and  what  I'd 
done,  every  time  I  got  back ;  but  the  worst  of  it  was 
she  wouldn't  believe  I'd  been  just  to  my  sister's. 
She  wanted  to  know  of  the  cook  what  I'd  said  about 
it.  The  cook  gave  her  some  yarn,  and  that  was 
enough. 

"I  was  sorry  to  leave  on  the  others'  account, 
though,  for  the  master  and  the  children  were  lovely. 
I  think  the  master  was  sorry  to  have  me  go,  too.  He 
got  mad  one  day  when  I  was  out  in  the  pantry. 
*  I  don't  like  this  always  changing,  a  new  one 
every  two  months.  I'm  tired  of  it— you  never  can 
get  absolute  perfection;  I  can't  in  my  business  and 
it's  unreasonable  to  expect  it.  This  one  is  all  right, 
and  I  say  she  must  stay.'  ' 

"What  then?"  asked  the  interested  one  with  the 
glasses. 

"Oh,  the  mistress  began  to  cry,  and  he  gave  in. 
She  afovays  cried  when  she  couldn't  get  her  way. 
It  was  hard  in  that  place,  though — so  much  com- 
pany and  so  many  extras." 

"Don't  you  like  to  see  things  nice?"  asked  a  new- 
comer, a  tall  dark  girl  in  broadcloth,  black  kid 
gloves  and  picture  hat. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  like  to  see  things  nice;  but  I  don't 
believe  in  putting  on  such  a  lot  for  company  if  you 
don't  have  it  all  the  time." 


IN  THE  DISPENSARY  39 

They  all  shook  their  heads  and  said  that  it  was 
very  hard  when  people  did  that  way — that  the 
best  people  didn't  do  it. 

"How  much  time  did  you  have?"  resumed  she  of 
the  glasses. 

"I  came  in  town  one  afternoon  in  two  weeks,  and 
had  one  evening  the  off  week." 

"Not  time  enough,"  decided  the  others. 

"I  hope  she  paid  you,"  remarked  Kate,  the 
stylish  one. 

"Four  dollars." 

"And  the  black  ?"     [The  waitress  uniform.] 

"I  got  that." 

The  sympathy  of  the  group  was  with  the  ladylike 
one. 

"That  was  not  right;  you  did  well  to  get  away. 
She  should  have  given  five  dollars  and  the  black, 
with  an  afternoon  every  week,"  declared  Kate. 

The  girl  with  the  glasses  never  would  have  stood 
it.  "I'd  have  asked  her  what  kind  of  a  lady  she 
was,  to  give  only  four  dollars  and  me  get  the  black. 
Indeed,  I  would  have  said  it  to  her." 

"I'm  glad  she's  gone,"  was  the  sympathetic 
comment  as  the  ladylike  one  was  called  out  next  in 
turn. 

"Did  you  get  the  place?"  asked  Kate,  on  her 
return. 

"No;  it  was  for  the  country,  and  I  don't  like  the 
country." 

"Who  with?"  asked  the  glasses. 

"Why,  they're  nice  people!"  exclaimed  Kate. 
"I  know  who  they  are.  She  is  Mrs.  Logan's  daugh- 
ter, who  married  a  James  a  little  while  back.  She 
has  one  little  girl ;  is  rich,  too,  and  entertains  a  good 


40  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

bit.  The  aunt  lives  on  Rittenhouse  Square.  Why 
don't  you  take  it  ?  I'd  like  a  chance  like  that." 

"It's  in  the  country." 

"Well,  what  if  it  is?  Isn't  summer  coming? 
And  it's  too  hot  down  here  then  anyhow ;  everybody 
goes  away.  Why  don't  you  go  with  these  for  the 
summer,  and  then  come  back  in  the  fall,  if  you 
don't  like.  You  might  want  to  stay  right  along, 
for  they're  nice  people.  It's  a  good  chance  and  I'd 
go  if  I  were  you." 

The  ladylike  one  hesitated.  She  hardly  knew 
her  own  mind  in  the  excitement  of  the 
situation. 

"I  told  them  I  didn't  want  to  go  to  the  country." 

"Well,  hurry  right  back  before  they're  gone  and 
say  you've  changed  your  mind  and  would  like  to  try 
it,"  said  Kate.  "Hurry  now." 

She  hurried. 

"She  might  as  well  go,"  observed  Kate  to  the 
glasses.  "It's  healthy  out  where  they  live  and 
they're  nice  people." 

Kate  was  no  novice,  plainly.  "I  lived  with 
Mrs.  X.  four  years ;  then  I  got  tired  and  wanted  a 
change,  so  I  left.  I  hadn't  been  gone  two  weeks 
when  I  got  a  letter  from  her  offering  me  fifty  dollars 
to  go  back.  I  went,  of  course,  and  stayed  till  the 
year  she  made  up  her  mind  to  go  to  Newport  for 
the  summer — :and  that  was  six  years.  Now,  I 
thought,  it  is  a  good  time  for  me.  So  I  gave  notice 
that  I  was  going  to  stay  in  the  city  with  my  sister 
for  the  summer,  and  for  her  not  to  count  on  me 
for  going  to  Newport,  because  I  wouldn't  go.  'You 
can  get  plenty  of  girls  up  there,'  I  said.  'I  don't 
want  to  go  far  away.'  So  she  went  and  took  her 


IN  THE  DISPENSARY  41 

cook,  and  her  chambermaid,  and  the  rest,  and  got 
settled,  and  then  I  got  another  letter.  'I  can't 
find  anybody  at  all  that  will  do ;  these  people  up  here 
don't  know  anything,  and  do,  please,  Katie,  come 
up  to  me.  I'll  give  you  fifty  dollars,  your  expenses 
both  ways,  and  thirty  dollars  a  month  for  all  the 
time  you  are  here/  ' 

"And  did  you  go?"  asked  the  glasses. 

"I  guess  I  did;  an  offer  like  that  is  too  good  to 
lose.  I  made  out  to  tear  myself  away  from  my  sister 
—I  didn't  care  anything  great  about  staying  with 
her  except  for  the  excuse — and  I  went  to  Newport 
on  the  first  train.  That  was  a  good  many  years  ago 
-—five,  I  guess — and  I've  been  looking  for  a  chance 
to  get  away  these  two  years.  I  got  it  yesterday. 
The  cook  said  Mrs.  X.  told  her  she  could  get  plenty 
other  girls,  if  Kate  should  go  away.  I  made  it  out 
to  Mrs.  X.  that  she  was  looking  to  have  me  go;  and 
at  last  I  am  away." 

"You'll  get  another  letter  with  another  fifty 
dollars,"  suggested  the  glasses. 

"Likely.  I'm  expecting  it.  But  it'll  take  more'n 
fifty  dollars  to  get  me  back  this  time.  I  ain't 
pushed  for  a  place  right  away,  either;  I've  got 
money  in  the  bank,  but  I  don't  like  to  be  around 
without  anything  to  do." 

Speaking  of  sisters — there  was  a  plump  and 
winsome  Irish  girl,  neat  and  fresh  as  a  May  breeze, 
with  rosy  cheeks,  blue  eyes  and  beautiful  fluffy 
iron-gray  hair,  prematurely  turned.  She  came 
into  the  office  a  little  after  Kate,  from  a  six-year 
place — left  of  her  own  accord,  she  said;  and  she, 
too,  grew  reminiscent. 

"I  had  company  one  night  when  I'd  been  with 


42  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

that  lady  a  week — two  friends ;  men.  I  was  down 
in  the  kitchen  with  'em  and  we  had  a  good  time. 
The  next  day  I  was  called  down  for  it. 

"  'I  never  allow  it,'  said  the  lady. 

'"Then  the  afternoon  of  yesterday  week  past  was 
the  time  for  you  to  have  said  it,'  said  I;  'and  I 
wouldn't  have  come  here.  I  had  other  places  to  go 
to.  But  you  never  mentioned  it  then,  so  I  tell  you 
now  and  we'll  have  the  understanding.  My  home 
is  in  Ireland  with  my  people,  but  so  long  as  I'm 
over  in  this  country  the  place  where  I  work  is  my 
home,  and  there  my  friends  will  have  to  come  to  see 
me.  I'll  not  stay  in  any  place  where  they  can't 
come.  These  were  my  cousins,  anyhow.'  They 
never  believe  you  when  you  say  that,"  the  girl 
added  naively.  "  But  one  of  them  was  my  cousin, 
really." 

"And  did  you  have  them  again?"  asked  the 
glasses. 

"Of  course  I  did.  I  know  what  belongs  to  me 
and  my  place.  I  only  want  what  is  right." 

"Yes,  you  want  what  is  right,"  nodded  Kate, 
approvingly.  "And  you  understand  your 
work?" 

"Yes;  I  understand  my  work." 

Kate  nodded  again,  for  that  was  well  also. 

Mrs.  Lacy  did  not  meet  my  expectations  that 
morning,  though  the  girls  said  the  office  was  better 
than  the  newspaper — that  is,  safer.  Because,  while 
nice  people  did  sometimes  advertise,  a  girl  was  more 
likely  that  way  to  get  in  with  the  "half  cuts,"  who 
didn't  know  how  to  treat  one.  One  couldn't  always 
tell  by  going  to  the  house,  though  generally  one 
could;  but  if  the  girl  should  make  a  mistake,  she 


IN  THE  DISPENSARY  43 

couldn't  stay  long  in  her  place,  and  that  spoiled  her 
reference. 

As  it  came  dinner  time,  the  girls  dropped  out 
singly  or  by  twos  until  I  was  left  alone.  One  bonny 
lady  had  refused  to  consider  me  as  a  plain  cook 
because  I  did  not  look  strong.  Her  last  had  been  a 
good  girl,  smart  to  work,  but  not  strong,  and  had 
so  become  ill.  The  lady  was  sorry;  I  looked  "like 
a  very  nice  girl."  Another  nice  lady  who,  for  the 
striking  resemblance,  might  have  been  twin  to  one 
of  Mrs.  Barnes's  relatives,  did  consider  me  for  plain 
cook,  though  fearfully.  I  had  been  in  but  one  place, 
and  only  for  a  month ;  I  did,  being  pumped,  confess 
more  culinary  ability  than  experience  could  warrant, 
but  not  with  assurance.  Was  I  willing  for  her  to 
see  my  last  employer?  And  would  I  call  at  her 
house  about  one  o'clock  for  her  decision? 

At  the  time  appointed  Mrs.  Lacy  gave  me  the 
address  and  immediately  my  heart  beat  faster. 
The  place  was  well  known  to  me,  though  my  lady 
had  not  been.  I  am  a  servant  girl,  but  I  have  my 
prejudices — one  strong  prejudice  against  working 
for  my  friends,  especially  in  the  place  of  a  cook. 

The  family  was  at  lunch  when  I  called,  and  I  was 

asked  to  wait  half  an  hour,  as  Mrs.  B had  a 

guest.  I  preferred,  however,  to  send  the  maid 
back  with  the  word  that  I  had  "decided  not  to 
take  the  place."  My  call  had  been  most  luckily 
ordered,  certainly. 

"Did  you  get  the  place,  Eliza?"  was  Mrs.  Lacy's 
eager  question  on  my  return  to  her. 

"  No'm;  I  decided  not  to  take  it." 

"  Oh,  too  bad  !"  sympathized  both  Mrs  Lacy  and 
her  attendant.  "What  was  the  matter?" 


44  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"  I  didn't  see  the  lady — she  was  at  lunch  and  sent 
out  word  to  wait;  but  I  don't  want  to  go  as  a 
cook — I'd  rather  have  general  housework." 

Such  a  mournful  expression  as  rested  on  those  two 
faces  !  "Oh,  the  other  is  so  much  nicer  !"  they  said. 

Mrs.  Lacy  had  been  spoken  of  to  me  as  one  likely 
to  be  "deeply  interested  in  my  object,  and  with  all 
her  heart  and  soul." 

"Why  not  take  her  into  your  confidence?"  it 
had  been  suggested. 

I  did. 

"Speaking  in  confidence,  Mrs.  Lacy,  I  do  not 
take  up  domestic  service  permanently  or  entirely 
for  its  own  sake,"  I  confessed;  "but  to  find,  if  I  can, 
why  it  is  that  women  have  such  troublous  times  with 
their  servants.  One  place  at  general  housework  I 
have  had.  I  want  one  or  two  more  before  I  begin 
to  specialize.  Is  there  likelihood  that  you  can  give 
me  another  such?  Do  you  have  calls  for  general 
housework  girls  ? " 

She  hedged,  so  I  knew  she  didn't. 

"Why  do  you  waste  your  time  that  way,  for 
you  can  never  find  out;  the  ladies  are  so  different 
—no  two  want  the  same  thing;  some  want  one 
thing  in  a  girl,  and  some  want  another.  Take  a 
nice  place  as  plain  cook,  or  chambermaid,  keep  it 
as  long  as  you  can,  and  when  you  want  another  I'll 
get  it  for  you.  It  is  much  the  wiser  way." 

"No;  my  plan  is  made  and  partially  executed.  I 
shall  hold  to  it.  You  cannot  help  me  to  a  place, 
then,  such  as  I  want?" 

"Ah,  have  you  the  experience?  You  must  have 
the  experience;  the  ladies  will  not  take  you  without 
the  experience." 


IN  THE  DISPENSARY  45 

"Good-morning,"  said  I. 

It  was  suddenly  clear  to  me  that  I  had  been 
asking  her  to  work  against  her  bread  and  butter. 
Only  the  most  extreme  simplicity  would  have 
ventured  such  a  suggestion;  yet  even  the  most 
extreme  simplicity,  I  think,  deserves  respect  for  a 
revelation  made  in  confidence. 

Would  not  a  patron's  interest  have  been  served 
by  the  single  reason  that  I  preferred  a  place  at 
general  housework,  quite  as  well  as  by  a  complete 
give  away?  It  would  seem  so,  though  it  is  not  for 
me  to  judge  of  the  intricacies  of  Mrs.  Lacy's  business. 

I  do  judge,  however,  that  the  intelligence  office 
is  no  place  for  me.  Katie,  the  glasses,  and  the  lady- 
like one  to  the  contrary — very  nice  girls  all — I 
choose  the  newspaper  "ad." 


CHAPTER  IV 
As  IT  Is  IN  THE  Zoo 

is  an  epileptic  fit  between  two  nothings," 
says  a  philosopher  with  a  German  name.  Can  he 
have  experienced  a  Mrs.  Kinderlieber,  too?  That 
were  enough  to  sour  any  man  to  the  core  and  turn 
his  view  of  the  universe  into  one  vast,  acrid  expanse. 
Yet  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  had  sorrows  of  her  own,  one 
very  real  one  and  fresh,  as  I  knew  before  I  had  sat 
ten  minutes  in  her  stuffy  little  parlour.  What 
might  I  not  have  decided  after  the  hour  with  her, 
but  for  the  restraint  of  sympathy?  Mrs.  Kinder- 
lieber wanted  a  girl  or  woman  capable  of  taking 
entire  charge  of  a  family  of  two,  and  actually  I 
hoped  for  a  comfortable,  quiet  place  with  her,  where 
I  might  stay  a  long,  long  time. 

Mrs.  Kinderlieber  was  so  careful  in  the  matter  of 
references  ! 

"Mrs.  Harrison,  across  the  street,  can  tell  you 
about  me,  how  I  am,  if  you  aren't  satisfied.  She 
knows  me  well. " 

I  did  not  care  for  Mrs.  Harrison's  opinion,  but 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber  decided  to  verify  my  reference 
from  Mrs.  Barnes  by  a  call  on  that  lady's  sister, 
resident  in  the  city. 

"  You  will  find  her"  (Eliza)  "a  reliable  person  and 
a  good  worker, "  declared  my  referee.  "  She  was  in 

47 


48  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

my  sister's  family  for  a  time,  and  I  have  known  her 
quite  well  for  two  years. " 

"She  says  she  can  cook  and  make  good  bread," 
suggested  Mrs.  Kinderlieber. 

"  Yes  ?  I  know  her  to  have  done  plain  cooking, " 
was  the  answer,  "and  I  presume  she  can  make  good 
bread,  though  I  happen  never  to  have  tested  any. 
I  have,  however,  eaten  rolls  of  her  making  which 
were  very  successful." 

"Other  girls  came  to  me  this  morning,"  went  on 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber,  "and  one  was  very  saucy.  I 
don't  think  this  one  would  be  saucy,  do  you? 
I  seemed  to  take  to  her  from  the  first,  she  is  so  nice 
and  refined  looking  and  delicate;  she  makes  me 
think  of  my  little  Milly,  my  little  girl  I  buried  a 
week  ago  Thursday.  My  little  Milly  used  to  help 
me  around  the  house  and  see  to  things — I  was  sick 
a  long  time  in  the  fall,  and  I  didn't  want  a  strange 
girl  in  the  house  when  I  couldn't  be  around  to  look 
after  her.  I  don't  think  I  could  bear  anybody  in 
Milly's  place  who  would  be  saucy  to  me." 

Miss  S was  very  sure  I  would  not  be  saucy, 

whatever  else  I  might  be.  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  then 
called  for  me  and  the  engagement  was  made  between 
us  and  sealed  with  a  hand-clasp.  For  one  moment  I 
thought  the  woman  was  going  to  fall  on  my  neck 
and  embrace  me. 

This  agreeable  temper  did  not  last  overnight. 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber,  as  I  was  to  learn,  was  a  person 
of  many  and  rapidly  changing  emotions.  I  never 
could  tell  from  the  mood  in  which  I  had  left  her  how 
I  might  find  her  next  time.  She  answered  my  ring 
next  morning,  indeed,  and  allowed  me  to  go  into 
the  tiny  hall,  but  reluctantly. 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  49 

''Is  that  your  bag?"  pointing  to  my  battered 
telescope. 

"Yes'm,"  said  I,  meekly,  and  having  entered,  I 
stood  silently  waiting  her  pleasure.  But  she  stood, 
handkerchief  in  hand,  breathing  displeasure  from 
the  little  tight-twisted  button  of  gray  hair  upon  her 
crown  to  the  bottom  fold  of  her  red  woolen  wrapper. 

1  'Why,  Eliza,"  she  said  at  length,  her  face  work- 
ing strangely,  "  I  don't  think  you'll  like  it  here  alone 
with  just  me ;  I  am  afraid  you  won't  enjoy  it.  I  cry 
a  good  bit. "  Her  sentence  ended  in  a  sob. 

"But  you'll  be  better  after  awhile,"  I  replied 
cheerfully. 

"I  should  think  you'd  rather  be  with  somebody 
else,  nearer  town,  nearer  you  friends,"  she  per- 
sisted. 

I  could  not  grasp  the  situation.  So  tenderly 
engaged  in  the  late  afternoon — "Yes,  I'd  like  to 
have  you  come,  if  you  think  you'd  like  to" — and  the 
next  morning  not  wanted  at  all. 

But  I  answered  her:  "No,  I  am  content.  I  am 
here  now  and  willing  to  stay — unless  you  want  me 
to  go  again?" 

If  she  chose  to  break  her  agreement,  she  might. 

"No,  I  engaged  yoti;  you  can  stay;  of  course,  if 
you're  bound  to, "  and  she  gave  the  still  open  front 
door  a  spiteful  bang  and  directed  me  on  before  her, 
upstairs.  On  the  way  she  stopped  to  tell  pleasantly 
enough  what  rooms  lay  behind  the  various  doors, 
explaining  their  unsettled  condition  by  her  long 
illness  in  the  fall. 

The  small  back  room  on  the  third  story  was  mine, 
she  said,  as  we  paused  before  the  door. 

"I'm  afraid  you'll  think  it  don't  look  very  nice, 


50  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Eliza.  Nobody  has  used  it  for  a  long  time.  That 
last  coloured  girl  I  had — the  one  I  told  you  I  let 
go  after  two  days,  she  was  so  dirty — slept  in  one 
of  the  rooms  downstairs. " 

A  statement  which  I  now  believe  to  be  fiction, 
though  I  was  then  preoccupied  with  facts  more 
patent:  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  and  the  room  in  which  I 
stood ;  the  latter  I  regarded,  impassive  and  without 
comment,  while  the  tongue  of  the  former  rattled  on 
feverishly  about  almost  everything. 

The  room  did  not  look  nice  to  me,  it  is  true,  still  I 
have  seen  worse.  The  paper  and  woodwork  were  fresh 
and  clean,  the  bed  was  clean,  and  so  was  the  mattress, 
though  the  snarl  of  dirty  quilt  upon  it  was  not. 
The  bare  floor  had  been  clean — it  was  only  dusty; 
and  the  matting  lay  rolled  up  and  dumped  at  one 
side.  The  toilet  conveniences  were  a  wash-stand 
with  a  dirty  marble  top,  a  dirty  earthenware 
bowl,  a  piece  of  dried  yellow  laundry  soap  as  big 
as  a  strawberry,  and  an  unspeakably  dirty  towel 
upon  the  wall-mirror,  comb-tray,  towel-rack  combi- 
nation. Saving  the  towel,  which  Mrs.  Kinderlieber 
apologized  for  removing  on  Sunday,  the  perfection 
of  this  service  was  never  marred — while  I  stayed, 
at  least — by  the  addition  or  subtraction  of  a 
single  article. 

All  these  things  I  noted  and  more,  and  still  Mrs. 
Kinderlieber  stayed  and  talked.  I  don't  know 
why — she  said  she  had  a  lot  of  work  to  be  done. 
Finally,  having  offered  her  one  of  the  two 
common  chairs,  I  sat  in  the  other  and  folded  my 
hands. 

The  hint  was  rather  pointed,  I  suppose,  though 
I  did  not  mean  it  to  be  unduly  so. 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  51 

"Are  you  going  to  change  your  dress?"  she  had 
asked  me. 

"Why,  yes,  if  ycfu  don't  mind,'*  I  had  replied. 
"  I  always  do." 

"Do  you?"  she  beamed,  familiarly  curious;  and 
still  she  lingered. 

Did  she  think  I  would  be  pleased  to  lay  out  for 
her  benefit  the  contents  of  my  bag,  or  yet  to  make 
my  toilet  in  her  presence?  She  saw  her  mistake 
quickly,  and  flushing  spitefully,  she  jerked  out, 
"Well,  you  come  down  as  soon  as  you're  dressed," 
as  though  punishment  for  a  sin  committed;  and 
for  the  second  time  a  door  slammed  spitefully. 

Who  would  not  have  been  reluctant  to  go  down 
to  such  a  woman?  But  I  went,  and  behold,  she 
met  me  in  the  dining-room  as  affable  as  need  be. 

"I  suppose  you  want  to  work?" 

I  said  that  I  was  ready,  it  was  what  I  had  come 
for,  and  she  led  me  toward  the  kitchen  where  the 
dishes  from  last  night's  dinner  and  that  morning's 
breakfast  were  scattered  about  on  a  good-sized 
center  table. 

"I  left  the  dishes  for  you,"  she  said.  "I  didn't 
know  whether  you'd  come  or  not,  but  I  thought 
I'd  leave  them.  And  I  guess  the  water  is  hot 
enough;  I  put  it  on  since  I  came  downstairs." 
Not  understanding  the  angry  look  that  went  with 
this,  I  appeared  not  to  notice,  and  it  passed 
quickly.  "I  thought  I'd  do  that  much  for  you, 
so  you  could  be  ready,"  she  concluded  benevo- 
lently. 

An  enormous  dishpan  with  a  little  water  in  it  set 
over  one  burner  of  her  gas-range.  The  water  being 
passably  warm,  I  proceeded  to  business,  while  she 


52  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

seated  herself  directly  opposite,  her  back  to  the 
window,  and  began  to  talk : 

"I  guess  you've  never  done  very  much  hard  work, 
have  you,  now?"  she  smiled  upon  me,  openly,  curi- 
ously admiring.  "Your  hands  are  so  white,  just 
like  a  lady's.  My  Milly's  hands  were  that  way, 
too." 

"Indeed,  I  have  done  quite  a  lot  of  hard  work  in 
my  life,"  I  answered  her. 

"Have  you,  though?"  incredulously.  "How  do 
you  manage  to  keep  your  hands  so  nice,  then  ?" 

"I  don't  know;  I  don't  do  anything  to  'em  except 
wash  'em  once  in  awhile,  when  they  need  it.  I  let 
'em  stay  as  they  grow." 

This  she  thought  a  most  remarkable  thing. 

"The  lady  you  sent  me  to  about  your  reference 
said  you  weren't  German.  I  thought  you  were. 
You  look  like  a  German,  I  think." 

For  the  fourth  time  I  announced  to  her  my 
American  nationality. 

"So?  I  have  had  lots  of  girls  in  my  time,  Eliza, 
but  I  never  had  any  like  you  before;  I  think  I  am 
going  to  like  you,  though,  if  you'll  stay.  Will  you  ? 
I  had  a  good  girl  once  that  stayed  with  me  two 
years— that  was  a  long  time,  don't  you  think  so? 
Charlotte,  her  name  was:  she  was  a  German  and 
devoted  to  me.  Why,  she  used  to  go  down  to  the 
corner  to  meet  me,  and  carry  my  bundles  when  I 
was  coming  up  from  downtown.  All  the  neighbours 
around  noticed  her  and  used  to  say  to  me:  'My, 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber,  but  that  girl  is  devoted  to  you !' 
That  girl  was  good  and  honest,  but  she  wasn't 
refined  and  ladylike,  like  you  are. 

"You  are  just  like  my  little  Milly.     How  I  should 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  53 

have  liked  to  have  you  when  she  was  alive !  You 
could  have  taken  her  to  the  park  and  gone  out  with 
her — my !  That's  why  I  couldn't  have  the  coarse 
girls  that  used  to  come,  on  account  of  the  child. 
But  there  !  I  don't  care  so  much  now  ! 

"I  ain't  very  well,  Eliza.  This  is  my  medicine 
here  on  the  window-sill.  I  tell  you,  so  you  won't 
throw  it  away.  I  take  it — it's  for  my  nerves;  I 
ought  to  take  some  now,  I  guess.  Doctor  Lawton 
gave  it  to  me.  Do  you  know  Doctor  Lawton? 
That  lady  friend  of  yours  does;  she  told  me  so. 
How  did  she  get  to  know  him?  You  like  her, 
pretty  well,  don't  you?"  insinuatingly.  ''What 
does  she  do,  'tend  in  a  store?  She's  refined,  too, 
just  the  way  you  are. 

"That  woman  in  the  next  house,  this  side,  has 
got  a  good  woman  to  help  her — had  her  six  years, 
ever  since  the  oldest  boy  was  little.  There  she  is 
now,  see  ?  She's  got  a  good  face,  I  think.  They've 
got  six  children  in  that  house,  but  I  don't  like  'em 
much,  except  one;  he's  sort  of  pale  and  delicate. 
Milly  used  to  play  with  him  a  little  in  the  summer. 
The  rest  are  rough. 

"I  hope  you  don't  talk  much  to  the  neighbours 
about  things  in  here.  I  don't  want  'em  to  be 
knowing  everything  that  goes  on.  Some  girls  are 
always  talking  over  the  back  fence  or  out  the  window. 

"I  had  a  coloured  girl  just  two  days  this  week, 
did  I  tell  you?  But  I  let  her  go;  I  couldn't  have 
her  around,  she  was  so  dirty  and  slack  looking; 
though  the  lady  she  worked  for  down  the  street 
liked  her  and  gave  her  up  to  me  because  I  hadn't 
anybody.  She's  got  the  girl  back  again  now;  I 
suppose  she  didn't  like  it  because  I  didn't  keep  the 


54  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

girl,  but  I  couldn't  have  her  around  in  the  kitchen 
where  my  Milly  had  been. 

"I  had  another  girl  before  her  that  I  liked  pretty 
well,  till  I  came  down  one  morning  and  found  her 
beating  my  little  dog  with  the  broom;  my  little 
dog — Prince,  his  name  is.  I  can't  have  anybody 
here  who  isn't  kind  to  my  animals.  I  am  awfully 
fond  of  animals — I  think  it  shows  a  kind  heart  to 
love  the  dumb  things,  don't  you  ?  You  like  animals, 
too.  I  noticed  you  yesterday  when  Duke  put  his 
head  into  your  lap,  you  patted  him  and  were  kind 
to  him.  I've  got  quite  a  lot  of  animals,  don't  you 
think?" 

"Quite  a  lot"  for  a  small  city  house,  most  assur- 
edly. Though  as  she  has  observed,  I  do  like  animals, 
and  had-  counted  hers  both  as  an  attraction  and 
compensation.  There  was  the  really  beautiful 
collie,  Duke — "almost  pure  blooded,"  as  his  mistress 
said,  living  generally  in  the  dining-room.  (I  didn't 
know  this  before  I  engaged  with  her.)  There 
was  a  little  cocker  spaniel,  Prince,  living  generally 
in  the  shed:  an  over-affectionate,  mischievous  little 
nuisance.  There  was  an  ancient  bird  of  gaudy 
plumage  and  nimble  tongue  which  had  for  twenty- 
five  years  rejoiced  in  his  royal  title,  Sultan.  There 
was  a  chipper  little  canary  called  after  a  hero  of 
our  late  war.  There  was  a  poor  black  cat,  not 
more  unfortunate  in  its  late  distemper  than  in 
its  present  medicine — solitary  confinement  in  the 
cellar  all  winter  that  it  might  have  the  benefit  of  an 
even  temperature.  There  was  another  black  cat, 
more  happy  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  its  freedom; 
and  yet  another  cat,  not  black,  remarkable  for  only 
one  eye  and  "a  past." 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  55 

"I  had  this  cat  a  long  time  ago,"  Mrs.  Kinder- 
lieber  related,  but  it  went  off  and  was  gone  for  five 
years  and  I  couldn't  find  it  anywhere.  Then  one 
day  it  came  back  again.  The  same  cat,  after  five 
years !  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  It  had  only 
one  eye  when  it  came  back ;  the  boys  threw  a  stone 
and  put  the  other  one  out.  What  do  you  think  of 
that?  Wasn't  that  queer?" 

I  thought  it  was  queer  in  so  far  as  her  certainty 
of  the  details  was  concerned. 

It  was  not  so  strange  a  morning — my  first  one 
with  Mrs.  Kinderlieber — though  I  did  not  find  out 
from  it  just  what  was  expected  of  me.  Not  house- 
keeper's work,  as  I  had  inferred  from  the  adver- 
tisement, for  there  was  no  declaration  of  routine  or 
family  custom.  I  had  been  started  on  the  dishes 
and  told  to  clear  up  the  kitchen,  which  I  had  done; 
sweeping,  dusting,  washing  the  floor,  and  cleaning 
the  window  which  looked  into  the  alley;  though 
the  kitchen  had  seemed  to  me  the  cleanest  and 
best-regulated  room  in  the  house.  After  that  there 
was  lunch — a  very  simple  one — from  a  cloth  rather 
worse  than  I  had  found  at  the  Barrys'.  Mrs. 
Kinderlieber  and  I  partook  together. 

"I  think  I'll  have  you  eat  with  us  when  I  don't 
have  company,  Eliza,  like  one  of  the  family.  That 
lady  I  saw  yesterday  said  it  would  be  all  right  to. 
None  of  my  girls  were  ever  allowed  to  do  it  before, 
but  you're  so  ladylike  and  refined ;  besides,  it's  lone- 
some with  just  my  husband  and  myself,  without 
Milly." 

It  was  not  my  chosen  way.  Indeed,  there  were 
times  when  I  longed  with  all  my  soul  to  be  "a 
rough  Irish  girl,"  eating  by  myself  in  the  kitchen. 


56  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

But  I  did  not  demur  too  loudly;  if  my  presence 
would  be  any  comfort  to  her,  I  was  a  sacrifice  at 
hand. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  this  afternoon?" 
she  asked. 

"Have  you  no  preference?"  was  my  answering 
question. 

"What  say?" 

"I'll  do  what  you'd  rather  I  did  first,"  I  explained. 

"Well,"  she  smiled,  "perhaps  you'd  like  to  fix 
up  your  room,  wash  the  floor,  clean  the  matting 
and  put  it  down.  Can  you  do  that  ?  And  I'll  lay 
out  the  clean  things  for  your  bed  in  the  bath-room, 
when  I  go  upstairs." 

That  pleased  me  as  well  as  anything.  Mrs. 
Kinderlieber  seemed  really  ashamed  to  give  me  such 
a  disorderly  room,  and,  under  the  circumstances, 
I  forgave  her.  I  never  have  forgiven  her,  however, 
for  not  allowing  me  the  privilege  of  morning  bathing 
— a  privilege  which  I  have  some  reason  to  suppose 
she  did  not  always  take  herself.  She  supplied 
no  pitcher  for  my  room,  nor  would  she  have  allowed 
me  to  carry  water  from  the  kitchen  in  any  suitable 
utensil  had  she  possessed  such,  which  she  did 
not.  This  did  not  matter  so  much  the  first  three 
days,  since  I  assumed  a  right  to  the  bath-room. 
Discovering  this  on  Monday,  she  was  aghast  at  such 
presumption,  and  for  the  future  forbade  me  to  pass 
the  door  except  as  I  went  in  to  clean.  "My  girls 
never  use  the  bath-room,"  said  she. 

There  was  still  the  kitchen  sink,  of  course,  though 
later  on  Monday  she  took  down  and  put  away  the 
only  hand  towel  she  seemed  to  have,  designing  it 
for  a  keepsake  in  memory  of  Charlotte,  who  had 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  57 

herself  woven  the  linen  in  Germany  and  made  the 
towel  a  gift  to  her  one  Christmas.  I  had  towels 
of  my  own,  but  not  choosing  to  bring  one  to  the 
kitchen  to  be  remarked  upon,  I  selected  a  clean 
dish-towel  and  laid  it  apart,  using  it  as  Mrs.  Kinder- 
lieber's  absence  gave  opportunity.  Sunday  after- 
noon when  I  went  out,  and  Wednesday  afternoon 
when  she  went  out,  I  enjoyed  two  beautiful  warm 
baths. 

That  Wednesday  when  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  went 
out  I  voted  a  blessedly  restful,  comfortable  day, 
though  I  worked  steadily  all  the  while  she  was 
gone,  accomplishing  as  much  as  in  all  the  other  five 
days  together.  That  was  the  day  on  which  I  fin- 
ished the  ordering  of  my  room,  the  task  which 
had  been  begun  my  first  afternoon,  the  Friday  before. 

Immediately  after  my  first  simple  lunch  with  her, 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber  disappeared  into  the  front  of  the 
house.  But  the  little  handful  of  dishes  were  not  all 
washed  before  she  came  out  to  me  again,  weeping 
and  wringing  her  hands  distressfully. 

I  was  startled. 

"Oh,  Eliza!"  she  said,  clutching  at  her  side,  "I 
wish  you'd  go  over  and  get  Mrs.  Harrison — I 
feel  so  terribly — I  don't  know  what  is  going  to 
happen !" 

I  fled  precipitately. 

Mrs.  Harrison's  Jennie  came  to  the  door.  "Mrs. 
Harrison's  mother  is  sick  and  Mrs.  Harrison  has 
gone  down  to  see  her,"  she  said;  "but  I'll  tell  her 
as  soon  as  she  gets  home  and  she'll  be  over.  Say, 
you're  Mrs.  Kinderlieber's  new  girl,  ain't  you?" 
she  asked,  her  good-natured  face  broadening  with 
a  slow,  sympathetic  smile.  "Well,  don't  you  be 


58  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

scared  when  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  gets  these  spells," 
she  advised.  ''She  always  thinks  she's  going 
to  die  when  she  gets  one  of  them,  but  she 
won't;  it's  nothing  but  nervousness.  She'll  get 
over  it." 

"But  she's  taking  on  at  a  great  rate.  Do  you 
know  what  to  do  for  her?"  I  asked. 

" Nothin'— don't  do  nothin',"  said  Jennie.  "Just 
let  her  be  and  she'll  be  all  right  after  a  bit." 

I  went  back  in  relief  and  dread.  Mrs.  Kinderlieber 
was  walking  the  floor,  groaning  and  clutching  the 
air  hysterically  when  I  opened  the  door;  but  she 
stopped  just  long  enough  to  put  the  eager  question, 
"Is  she  coming?" 

"Oh,  Eliza  !"  she  sobbed,  "I  have  such  a  pain  in 
my  heart !  I  don't  think  I  shall  last  very  long  !" 

"I'm  sorry  you  feel  so  ill,"  I  said.  "Can't  I  get 
you  something?  Or  won't  you  lie  down  for  a 
little?"  I  had  to  suggest  something. 

"Oh,  no,  I  can't  lie  down,"  she  almost  screamed. 
"  You  can't  do  anything  for  me — I  don't  want  any- 
thing done  for  me!"  and  again  there  was  a  clutch 
at  her  side. 

Not  knowing  what  more  I  could  do,  and  having 
Jennie's  word  for  it  that  the  case  was  not  dangerous, 
I  returned  to  my  dishes.  As  sensible  a  move,  I 
believe,  as  any  that  I,  her  servant  girl,  could  have 
made. 

The  having  "nobody  to  cry  to"  is  a  great  help 
sometimes.  Soon  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  was  out  in  the 
kitchen  again,  recovered,  but  sulky. 

"  I  can't  have  all  the  doors  open  this  way,  Eliza," 
she  said  petulantly,  shutting  all  three.  "I  am 
not  used  to  it.  And  you  must  keep  that  gate  in  the 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  59 

yard  shut,  or  the  little  dog  will  be  out  there  digging 
a  hole  in  the  garden." 

"  Yes'm;  very  well,"  I  replied,  wishing  she  might 
have  stayed  in  the  front  of  the  house  until  I  could 
have  brought  all  the  matting  downstairs.  It  was 
not  so  easy  to  take  the  three  bulky  rolls  down  three 
flights  of  stairs,  through  three  doors  and  a  gate, 
opening  and  shutting  each  every  time,  being  always 
careful,  as  admonished,  not  to  let  any  dirt  slip  out 
on  the  way. 

But  I  cleaned  the  matting — swept  it,  that  is.  I 
would  have  washed  it  except  that  Mrs.  Kinderlieber 
had  said  a  sweeping  and  beating  would  do.  I 
cleaned  the  room,  laid  the  papers  on  the  floor,  took 
the  matting  back  and  spread  it — all  the  pieces  all 
the  ways  and  no  piece  fitted  any  way.  I  dared  not 
cut  the  stuff  without  leave  lest  there  be  some  mis- 
take. Mrs.  Kinderlieber  had  not  said  anything 
about  a  refitting,  and  she  had  callers.  There  was 
other  matting  of  the  same  pattern  in  the  front 
room,  but  that,  when  I  unrolled  it,  was  worse  yet. 
Neither  matting,  tacks  nor  hammer  were  where 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber  had  said,  and  it  was  four  o'clock. 

Considering  the  situation  in  the  light  of  my  late 
experience  at  the  Barrys',  I  decided  that  it  was  best 
to  dress  for  dinner,  which  might  need  to  be  started 
before  long.  No  sooner  had  I  acted  on  this  thought 
than  I  heard  somebody  coming  rapidly  upstairs; 
my  door  was  pushed  open  without  the  ceremony 
of  a  knock,  and  for  the  second  time  that  day  Mrs. 
Harrison  from  across  the  street  had  come  to  see  me. 

"Oh,  Eliza!"  she  began,  coming  over  to  take  a 
seat  on  the  bed  beside  me,  "I  was  just  down  on  the 
porch  with  Mrs.  Kinderlieber,  and  she  is  so  worried 


60  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

for  fear  you  won't  like  it  with  her  and  are  planning 
to  leave !  '  Now,  Mrs.  Kinderlieber,  it  is  so  foolish 
for  you  to  worry  about  that ! '  I  told  her.  '  Eliza 
is  a  nice,  sensible  girl.  She  knows  you  aren't  well, 
and  she  expects  to  stay  until  you  get  better,  or 
longer.'  Isn't  it  so,  Eliza?" 

"Why,  I  did  expect  to  stay,  when  I  came,  if  she 
should  want  me  to,"  I  replied. 

"That's  just  what  I  told  Mrs.  Kinderlieber," 
declared  Mrs.  Harrison.  "She  likes  you,  only  she 
is  very  nervous  from  the  shock  of  the  child's  death, 
which  she  was  too  weak  to  bear  well  on  account  of 
a  long  and  severe  illness  last  winter.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Kinderlieber  are  really  lovely  people,  and  used  to 
be  real  jolly  always — great  for  going  out  and  having 
a  good  time,  you  know." 

The  effect  of  this  embassy  was  merely  to  stir  my 
pity  afresh,  though  I  was  beginning  to  doubt 
whether  I  could  stay  with  the  poor  woman  as  long 
as  I  had  first  intended.  I  did  not  confide  this  doubt 
to  Mrs.  Harrison,  however,  and  she  went  back  to 
her  patient. 

After  browsing  a  little  in  my  new  "receipt-book," 
which  I  esteemed  as  a  treasure  indeed,  having  heard 
of  it  by  the  merest  luck,  I,  too,  went  downstairs. 
By  this  time  Mrs.  Harrison  had  gone  and  there  were 
other  callers  in  the  parlour.  It  was  getting  late, 
and  I  knew  nothing  whatever  about  dinner,  not 
even  the  hour  of  serving. 

Mrs.  Kinderlieber 's  apparent  surprise  that  I  had 
not  divined  these  matters  I  found  somewhat  discon- 
certing— more  disconcerting  than  the  being  drawn 
back  before  the  parlour  door  to  be  presented  to  her 
qallers.  For  this  latter  I  had  been  in  a  measure 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  61 

prepared  by  the  bringing  over  of  Mrs.  Harrison 
earlier  in  the  morning. 

Was  it  such  a  curiosity,  then,  to  see  a  girl  in  a  clean 
dress  and  a  white  collar  ?  It  would  seem  so,  indeed. 

"Yes,  a  very  nice  girl,"  murmured  the  callers  after 
an  inquisitive  and  comprehensive  stare.  "I'm  glad 
youVe  got  her." 

Fat  ladies  they  were,  with  money  and  a  poodle. 
I  retired  from  them  to  the  kitchen  and  the  one-eyed 
cat,  having  learned  only  that  there  wasn't  any  hurry 
about  dinner  and  that  I  might  have  potatoes  "if  I 
wanted." 

Mr.  Kinderlieber  did  not  get  home  until  seven 
o'clock  or  half-past,  I  afterward  found  out.  For 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber  came  out  to  me  the  minute 
she  was  left  alone  and  began  to  walk  the  kitchen 
floor  from  corner  to  corner,  talking  incessantly  the 
while.  I  had  never  before  known  a  person  con- 
ditioned as  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  was,  and  perhaps  in 
my  ignorance  I  judged  harshly.  But  as  I  watched 
I  became  convinced  that  an  honest  effort  to  quiet- 
ness would  easily  have  succeeded,  to  her  great 
benefit.  I  suggested  the  same  as  tactfully  as  I 
could. 

"No,  no,  I  have  to  walk,"  she  said;  "I  have  to 
keep  going,"  and  throwing  something  over  her 
shoulders,  she  went  out  for  a  few  turns  up  and 
down  the  path  to  the  back  gate.  She  couldn't 
breathe  inside,  she  said. 

Fairly  against  my  will  and  idea  of  decency  there 
came  to  me  then  a  feeling  which  grew  with  the  days : 
that  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  was  purposely  taking  her 
grief  as  hard  as  possible,  luxuriating  in  her  misery 
and  patterning,  half -unconsciously  perhaps,  after  the 


TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

vulgar  ranting  tragics  of  a  cheap  stage.  She  regarded 
her  antics,  I  came  to  believe,  as  a  most  effective 
mourning  for  a  dearly  beloved  child ;  and  her  conse- 
quent social  distinction  in  the  neighbourhood  was 
as  food  to  her  pride — vanity,  rather.  Not  for  one 
puzzled  moment  did  I  deny  to  her  the  crown  of 
honest  sorrow,  and  gratitude  for  the  generous 
sympathy  of  her  friends;  only,  the  real  and  the 
spurious  seemed  hopelessly  mixed.  Nevertheless, 
I  were  rebuked  of  conscience  for  study  of  such 
pathos  but  for  the  need  of  understanding  my 
woman. 

A  neighbour,  seeing  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  out-of- 
doors,  put  up  a  back  window  to  ask  her  condition. 

"What  are  you  doing  without  a  girl,  then?"  and 
"How  do  you  like  her?"  were  the  questions  that 
followed. 

"She's  very  quiet,"  was  Mrs.  Kinderlieber 's 
reply. 

I  laughed  a  little  as  the  dialogue  was  reported  for 
my  benefit.  "  Is  that  the  best  you  can  say  of  me  ? " 

She  answered  with  a  cunning  look,  but  I  was  not 
expert  in  divination.  I  had  tried  to  be  decently 
social  with  her  for  philanthropic  reasons,  though  I 
am  not  naturally  garrulous  with  strangers.  But  she 
was  such  a  queer  woman !  Besides,  she  gave  one 
scant  chance  to  talk.  As  she  recommenced  her 
agitated  walk,  I  started  in  upon  a  prolonged  yarn 
about  a  six-toed  cat  I  had  once  had.  It  diverted 
her  for  the  moment. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  like  it  here  with  me  well  enough 
to  stay,  after  all,  Eliza.  Eh  ? " 

"Perhaps.  Perhaps  you  won't  want  me  after 
awhile.  You  know  you  said  this  morning  you  didn't 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  63 

know  but  it  would  be  better  to  get  a  rough  Irish 
girl?"  I  looked  as  for  an  answer,  and  got  a  second 
cunning  look  for  my  pains. 

My  first  day  was  almost  done.  Mr.  Kinderlieber 
came  home,  a  decent,  sad  man  and  physically 
impressive.  Supper  was  cooked  and  eaten,  I  in  the 
third  place  at  the  table,  as  uncomfortable  as  I  ever 
hope  to  be.  Mrs.  Kinderlieber's  tireless  tongue  run, 
as  it  had  run  all  day,  and  on  much  the  same  things. 
The  beautiful  nature  of  her  child  and  the  satisfactory 
burial.  Only,  now  it  was  to  Mr.  Kinderlieber  that 
she  spoke  chiefly.  At  least,  he  was  there ;  I  was  not 
alone  with  her.  Yet  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  wished 
apparently  to  make  something  of  me,  praising  the 
steak  and  mashed  potatoes  and  almost  forcing  on 
me  an  overliberal  supply.  I  was  glad  to  leave  her 
for  the  solitude  of  the  kitchen,  where  I  sat  waiting 
my  release  in  the  half  light,  patiently  and  alone. 
Every  subsequent  evening  was  not  spent  in 
semidarkness,  for  sometimes,  instead  of  turning 
the  gas  low,  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  brought  out 
the  evening  paper.  But  every  evening  was  soli- 
tary, of  necessity,  for  the  possible  admirer  was 
forbidden.  That,  however,  I  had  known  from 
the  first  interview. 

"I  suppose  you've  got  lots  of  beaux"  had  been 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber's  delicate  leading  to  the  subject. 
"  No  ?  Haven't  you  ?  I  only  asked  because  we  don't 
let  the  girls  leave  their  beaux  in  the  house.  My 
husband  don't  allow  it.  You  can  see  'em  outside 
at  the  gate,  if  you  want  to." 

About  nine  o'clock  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  came  out  to 
me  in  what  our  English  friends  are  accustomed  to 
term  a  "nawsty  temper."  I  improved  my  oppor- 


64  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

tunity,  however,  to  ask  the  hour  of  the  morrow's 
breakfast. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  was  her  indifferent  answer. 
"My  husband  has  to  be  downtown  at  half -past 
seven." 

"Then  you  have  a  seven  o'clock  breakfast?" 

"Yes,  about  that." 

"What  will  you  have?" 

"We  always  have  boiled  eggs,"  she  announced, 
as  if  it  were  no  earthly  business  of  mine. 

"How  many  shall  I  get?"  I  persisted. 

"Get?"  astonished;  "why,  not  any.  We  have 
them  in  the  house." 

"I  mean,"  I  explained,  "how  many  shall  I  boil?" 

Judging  from  her  glance  simply,  I  was  the  object 
of  her  deepest  loathing. 

"Not  any,"  was  the  impatient  answer.  "I'll  do 
it  myself.  It  isn't  much  work,  anyway.  I  always 
make  the  coffee  myself,  too,  and  there  ain't  any- 
thing else,  so  you  needn't  come  down  for  that." 

Surely  I  might  be  pardoned  for  expecting  to  get 
breakfast ! 

"I  don't  like  my  girls  to  get  up  early,"  she 
explained,  when  I  asked  if  there  was  anything  she 
particularly  wished  to  have  done  before  breakfast. 
"My  husband  says  I  ought  to  let  'em  get  up — that 
they  like  to  get  up ;  but  I  think  they  need  the  rest." 

She  turned  away  toward  the  dining-room,  but 
in  a  minute  she  was  back  again  to  say  significantly 
(though  what  it  signified  I  could  not  guess) :  "There's 
a  good  deal  of  work  to  be  done  here  to-morrow. 
To-morrow's  Saturday.  There's  the  dining-room 
to  sweep,  the  kitchen  to  put  in  order,  the  porch 
to  sweep  off.  It  was  dirty  this  afternoon  when 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  65 

those  ladies  called ;  I  was  ashamed.  Well,  I  suppose 
you're  tired  now." 

I  wasn't  especially.  I  asked  if  I  shouldn't  mix 
up  bread  for  the  next  day's  baking,  she  had  been 
so  particular  to  know  of  my  bread-making 
ability. 

She  was  as  surprised  as  though  she  had  never  seen 
bread.  "Why,  no;  we  have  our  bread  left  every 
morning  by  the  baker,"  she  said. 

I  was,  indeed,  bewildered  as  I  crept  between  the 
halves  of  my  single  sheet.  (Mrs.  Kinderlieber  pro- 
vided only  one  sheet  for  a  bed,  even  for  her  own. 
She  had  got  into  the  way  of  it,  she  said,  to  save 
washing  for  the  girls.)  But  what  a  relief  to  be 
surely  rid  of  her  presence  for  even  a  little  while  !  As 
the  days  passed,  all  too  much  like  the  first  one,  and 
most  of  them  worse,  I  gave  up  trying  to  meet  any 
professional  expectations  and  awaited  only  what 
the  next  minute  should  bring  forth — dumbly, 
unexpectant  and  enduring  as  do  the  beasts.  And 
ever  in  dread. 

Such  atmosphere  is  not  quickening  to  the  per- 
ceptions, whatever  value  may  be  culled  from  after- 
reflections  upon  the  experience.  Over  and  over 
again  I  pondered  my  doings  of  Friday  with  all  the 
honesty,  accuracy  and  minuteness  I  could  bring  to 
the  task.  And  in  them  not  one  reason  for  Saturday 
morning  could  I  find. 

Saturday  was  a  strange  day,  too.  It  began 
for  me  a  little  before  seven — as  soon  as  possible,  in 
fact,  after  I  heard  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  go  down.  I 
found  the  table  set,  the  coffee  and  eggs  under  way. 

"Good-morning,"  I  remarked  sweetly. 

"Good-morning,"  she  glowered  upon  me;  but  I 


66  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

could  not  think  of  anything  to  do,  unless  it  were 
to  put  a  third  plate  at  the  table  for  myself. 

"Eliza,  take  the  broom  and  go  sweep  off  the 
front  porch ! " 

It  was  a  command,  and  the  giver  was  ugly.  I 
jumped  to  a  response.  Having  swept  diligently  both 
porch  and  sidewalk,  I  noted  other  girls  along  the 
row  scrubbing  their  respective  porches,  so  I  went  in 
for  a  pail  of  water.  James  had  done  such  work  at 
the  Barrys',  and  I  had  not  thought  of  it  as  the  first 
number  of  a  new  daily  programme. 

"Eliza,  where  are  you  going  with  that  pail  of 
water?"  The  two,  husband  and  wife,  sat  at 
breakfast  as  I  went  through  the  room,  the  woman 
still  in  temper. 

Not  taking  her  answering  scowl  as  a  prohibition 
I  went  on. 

"You  didn't  do  that  porch  with  one  bucket  of 
water,  did  you?"  she  demanded,  as  I  went  back, 
having  finished  just  as  Mr.  Kinderlieber  passed  out 
for  downtown. 

"Yes,"  I  answered. 

It  was  like  a  cloudburst.  "Well,  we  don't  have 
our  porch  done  in  any  such  way  as  that,  I'll  have 
you  understand  !  One  bucket  of  water  !  We  don't 
have  our  porch  done  with  one  bucket  of  water !" 
I  think  her  expression  and  her  tone  were  as  insolent 
and  altogether  as  maddening  as  it  is  possible  for 
any  human  being  to  produce.  "We  like  our  porch 
to  look  nice.  I'm  sure  I'm  not  near  so  particular 
about  mine  as  all  the  other  people  on  the  street. 
Their  porches  are  as  clean " 

"I  can  very  easily  do  it  over  again  with  a  second 
bucketful,  if  you  wish,"  I  answered  evenly. 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  67 

"Well,  come  and  get  your  coffee,"  she  said, 
perfectly  calm  and  natural,  with  the  suggestion  of  a 
smile  even. 

The  transition  had  been  very  sudden,  I  thought. 

I  had  just  opened  my  egg  when  she  spoke  again. 

"Why,  Eliza,  I  don't  think  you're  strong  enough 
to  do  the  work  here,"  she  said,  watching  me  narrowly 

I  paused  to  regard  her  with  elevated  brows. 
"I  do  not  understand  you,"  I  said  quietly. 

"Why,  just  this,  Eliza,"  with  the  smile  and 
gentleness  of  condescension.  "My  husband  says 
you  aren't  strong  enough  for  the  work  of  this 
house.  He  noticed  right  away  that  you  are 
narrow-chested,  just  as  Milly  was,  and  he  won- 
dered at  my  taking  you  for  this  big  house." 
(The  Kinderlieber  house  was  one  of  a  block 
of  cheap  houses — contract-built,  three-story,  nine 
rooms  and  a  bath,  with  toothpick  spire  pointing 
up  in  the  middle  of  the  front.  Good,  comfort- 
able homes  these  houses  make  for  city  dwellers 
of  moderate  means,  but  in  no  sense  are  they  big 
houses.)  "I  know  you're  nice  and  refined,  but 
there's  a  big  wash  for  Monday;  you  never  could  do 
it;  /  can't  do  it.  Now,  a  great,  strong  Irish  girl 
could.  There  was  one  here  after  you  that  day,  did 
I  tell  you?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered  thoughtfully.  "Of  course,"  I 
resumed,  unimpassioned  and  perfectly  respectful, 
"whether  or  not  you  want  me  to  do  your  work  is 
entirely  your  own  affair,  and  whatever  you  wish  on 
that  point  pleases  me.  Other  places  are  plenty. 
But  to  say  that  I'm  not  strong  enough  is  absurd. 
In  the  first  place  it  isn't  true ;  and  in  the  second  place 
you  have  had  no  chance  to  prove  it.  I  am  as 


68  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

strong  now  as  I  was  day  before  yesterday,  when 
you  engaged  me.  Your  work  is  no  heavier  than 
it  was  forty-eight  hours  ago.  I  would  like  to  know 
why  you  are  dissatisfied?" 

"No,  it  is  just  as  I  tell  you,  Eliza.  It's 
my  husband;  he  says  you  are  not  strong 
enough." 

"He  doesn't  know,  either,"  said  I. 

She  bridled.  "My  husband  is  a  good  man,  and 
nice  to  work  for.  He's  got  men  working  for  him  in 
his  business  that  he's  had  for  thirty  years,  and  the 
same  men" — etc.,  etc.,  which  was  interesting  but 
hardly  to  the  point. 

"I  have  been  here  exactly  one  day,"  I  went  on, 
"and  in  that  time  I  have  done  everything  that  you 
told  me  except  put  down  the  matting  in  my  room; 
that  I  did  not  do  for  the  reasons  I  have  told  you. 
Moreover,  what  I  have  done  I  have  done  well,  for 
it  is  my  intention  to  work  in  no  other  way.  You 
have  given  me  no  general  idea  of  your  routine  or 
custom;  you  have  made  no  programme  for  me,  nor 
do  you  wish  me  to  plan  the  work  for  myself  as  a 
housekeeper  would.  However,  when  shall  I  go — 
this  morning?" 

"Oh,  no,"  she  said  quickly,  "I  didn't  mean  that. 
My  husband  said  you  might  stay  and  look  around 
for  awhile." 

"Which  I  do  not  care  to  do.  I  will  stay  and  do 
your  work,  or  I  will  go  at  once.  Except  that  I  do 
not  wish  to  stay  against  your  wishes,  the  time  of 
my  going  does  not  matter  in  the  least." 

I  waited  while  she  looked  at  her  plate,  the 
opposite  wall,  and  at  me.  I  was  eating,  but  she 
apparently  was  thinking. 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  69 

"Shall  I  go  now,  after  the  breakfast  dishes  are 
done?" 

"If — if  you  want  to."  Her  businesslike  decision 
seemed  to  have  left  her. 

"Let  it  be  that  way,  then,  if  you  want  to  give  me 
my  money." 

"  How  much  do  you  want  ?" 

"Why,  three  dollars  and  fifty  cents,  the  wages 
agreed  upon  for  the  week." 

I  knew  one  of  my  rights,  at  any  rate. 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  give  you  that!"  she  exclaimed 
hastily.  "My  husband  wouldn't  like  it.  I'll  give 
you  one  dollar  and  a  half." 

"  Not  enough  to  keep  me  over  Sunday,  and  it's 
too  late  to  get  another  place  this  week.  If  you  send 
me  away  now  you  must  give  me  the  whole.  It  is  the 
law." 

"No;  my  husband  wouldn't  let  me  do  that,"  she 
repeated. 

"Very  well,"  I  decided.  "I  stay  till  the  end  of 
the  week  and  work  it  out." 

"Well,  do  that,"  and  she  leaned  back  in 
her  chair  as  if  relieved.  "I  only  wanted 
to  give  you  fair  warning  so  that  you  could  be 
looking." 

Why  hadn't  she  said  so,  then?  So  I  stayed,  and 
after  six  days  I  went  again,  with  my  clothes  folded 
up  in  my  bag  and  my  three  dollars  and  a  half  in  my 
pocket.  I  do  not  pretend  that  the  money  was 
earned  by  the  work  of  my  hands,  only  by  the 
heroic  endurance  of  her  presence. 

I  fried  steak,  I  mashed  potatoes,  and  I  made  an 
omelet.  I  made  two  beds.  (She  took  exception  to 
the  way  in  which  I  made  my  own  bed.  Pretending 


70  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

to  think  that  the  sheet  had  been  doubled  for  the 
extra  warmth,  she  spread  it  out  full  width  and 
produced  a  dirty  blanket  for  the  first  top  cover.)  I 
swept  the  porch  and  the  walks  back  and  front,  the 
dining-room,  the  uncarpeted  stairs  and  hall.  I 
washed  the  kitchen  and  shed  floors,  back  stairs,  two 
windows  and  the  ice-chest.  Also  I  sifted  ashes, 
blacked  two  stoves,  put  down  matting,  rebound  the 
bottom  of  her  skirt,  and  did  errands:  upstairs, 
downstairs  and  outdoors.  Such,  save  for  the 
Monday's  washing,  is  the  sum  of  my  achievements. 

Monday  was  a  hard  day  indeed,  but  for  the  girl 
it  was  shadowed  by  the  peace  of  a  Sunday  after- 
noon out.  Besides,  on  Sunday,  Mr.  Kinderlieber 
at  home  was  a  slight  restraining  influence.  The 
beginning  was  stormy. 

"Furnace  fire  is  out!"  was  my  first  greeting, 
given  in  Mrs.  Kinderlieber's  own  inimitable  manner 
as  I  came  downstairs  into  the  kitchen.  "It  went 
out  yesterday  afternoon  after  you  left,  and  my  poor 
husband  had  to  go  down  and  make  it  up.  I  really 
felt  sorry  for  him  to  have  to  do  that  when  he  had  a 
headache ;  but  he  wouldn't  leave  it  because  it  would 
make  the  house  so  cold.  It  ought  to  have  been  looked 
after  again  when  you  came  in,  only  you  went  straight 
to  your  room  instead  of  coming  to  see  if  I  wanted 
anything.  I  never  had  a  girl  do  that  with  me  before. 
My  girls  were  always  coming  around,  anxious  to 
do  something  for  me,  instead  of  going  off  by  them- 
selves the  minute  they  got  a  chance.  I  had  a  mind 
to  call  you  down." 

"  I  have  been  accustomed  to  go  to  my  room  when 
I  come  in,"  I  answered.  "If  you  wanted  me  you 
should  have  said  so. " 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  71 

"Yes,  I  know;  most  anybody  else  would  have 
done  that,  but  I  thought  I  wouldn't.  You  might 
have  gone  to  bed.'* 

"And  as  for  the  furnace,"  I  continued,  "this  is 
the  first  word  you  have  said  to  me  about  it.  I  have 
never  been  accustomed  to  the  care  of  a  furnace,  and 
very  naturally  I  didn't  think  of  it." 

"  You  haven't  been  used  to  it,  but  you  should  have 
asked  me  about  it, "  she  said  with  sudden  gentleness. 

I  did  not  see  that  I  should  have  done  anything 
of  the  sort.  But  I  cleaned  out  the  furnace  under 
painfully  minute  instructions,  with  the  giver  of 
them  at  my  elbow.  Then,  after  the  fire  had  been 
built  to  the  tune  of  how  unable  Mrs.  Kinderlieber 
was  to  attend  to  such  work,  and  after  I  had  wormed 
out  of  her  the  method  by  which  it  should  be  regu- 
lated, she  wouldn't  let  me  have  the  care  of  it. 

"  Eliza,  go  down  and  see  if  the  fire  is  coming  up. 
Shut  the  cellar  door  after  you  when  you  go  down,  so 
Blackie  won't  come  up,  and  look  out  not  to  step  on 
his  tail.  Don't  touch  the  furnace;  just  look,  and 
then  come  up  and  tell  me  how  it  is." 

After  I  had  stumbled  twice  over  the  stairs — it 
was  as  dark  as  a  pocket  with  the  door  shut — and 
stepped  on  the  cat's  tail,  likely  as  not — I  would  be 
sent  back  again  to  close  or  open  the  furnace  door. 
The  case  of  the  furnace  is  typical  of  Mrs.  Kinder- 
lieber's  conduct  in  all  else.  She  sent  me  out  in  a 
fine  drizzling  rain  to  sift  ashes ;  in  a  few  minutes  she 
was  out  herself  to  see  whether  I  were  doing  it  as 
she  said ;  in  another  few  minutes  she  was  out  again 
to  see  why  I  had  not  finished ;  and  when  finally  I 
did  finish  and  was  back  in  the  house,  she  wondered 
why  I  had  not  put  on  a  wrap  or  taken  an  umbrella. 


72  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

I  could  not  decide  which  was  worse,  her  everlasting, 
trifling  supervision  or  her  tantrums. 

My  poor  memory  again  was  the  unlucky  cause 
of  sending  her  into  a  passion  that  same  Monday 
morning;  or  perhaps  it  was  from  overanxiety  to 
avoid  such  that  my  misfortune  was  born.  At  any 
rate,  the  table  being  ready  for  breakfast,  I  could  not 
tell  whether  or  not  the  beer  should  be  served,  as  at 
night  and  sometimes  at  noon.  I  put  the  question 
in  all  innocency,  and  I  have  yet  to  see  a  person  more 
unrestrained  and  vulgarly  angry. 

"  Beer  for  breakfast  ?  Beer  for  breakfast ! "  sneer- 
ing. "We're  hardly  that  kind  of  people.  We  are 
no  drunkards,  I'd  have  you  know,  that  we  take  beer 
in  the  morning.  Why,  the  wealthiest  people  drink 
wine  with  their  meals,  but  I  don't  like  wine,  so 
I  take  beer.  My  husband  don't  want  me  to, 
but  Doctor  Lawton  ordered  it  for  me.  The  very 
last  time  I  was  in  his  office  he  followed  me  to  the 
door.  'And  remember,  Mrs.  Kinderlieber,'  he  said, 
'I  want  you  to  have  your  beer.'  Why,  Doctor 
Lawton  takes  whisky  with  his  own  lunch,  for  I  was 
there  one  day  when  the  man  brought  it  in  to  him  on 
a  tray.  Beer  for  breakfast !  I  hope  you'll  not  go 
out  telling  around  that  we  drink  beer  for  breakfast. " 
(I  hope  it  is  well  understood  that  they  do  not.)  "  I 
don't  know  what  kind  of  people  you  can  be  used  to, 
I'm  sure."  (Not  her  kind,  thank  Heaven  !)  "  I'd 
have  looked  up  your  reference  if  it  hadn't  been  so 
far  away." 

And  there  was  more  of  this  most  rapidly  and 
passionately  delivered  of  tirades.  In  vain  I  tried  to 
explain  that  I  had  meant  no  impertinence — that  I 
had  erred  through  great  ignorance  of  potations  and 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  73 

all  that  pertained  to  them.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
the  calling  of  Mr.  Kinderlieber  to  his  egg  and  coffee 
she  would  have  been  talking  yet,  I  feel  sure. 
"Beer  for  breakfast,  indeed!"  It  was  the  last 
thing  she  said  as  she  disappeared  through  the 
door. 

Yet  the  day  had  only  begun.  And  I  complained  ? 
Unreasonably. 

I  have  said  that  I  washed  on  Monday.  I  washed 
all  day  Monday.  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  wouldn't  let 
me  soak  the  clothes  overnight,  and  she  wouldn't 
let  me  begin  early  in  the  morning.  At  nine  o'clock, 
then,  I  started,  with  her  at  my  elbow  to  inspect  each 
piece  as  I  rubbed  it  out.  In  default  of  a  boiler  she 
scalded  her  clothes  in  the  dishpan,  and  it  took  almost 
forever.  She  criticized  and  interrupted  the  rinsing, 
at  pleasure  sending  me  to  the  attic  with  this  thing, 
or  to  find  and  bring  down  that  thing ;  she  insisted  on 
hanging  out  many  articles  herself,  complaining  at 
the  same  time  of  the  illness  she  expected  to  bring  on 
by  so  doing. 

It  was  a  small  wash — she  had  sent  away  the  big 
pieces  "to  a  woman,"  and  it  was  quite  as  well,  I 
decided,  after  I  learned  her  method.  It  was  a  dirty 
wash,  too,  and  it  was  done  in  the  hardest  possible 
way,  and  the  end  was  not  until  four  o'clock.  But 
it  was  work,  and  an  agreeable  change ;  a  relief  from 
the  nervous  excitement. 

She  would  not  let  me  iron  on  Tuesday.  "I'll 
do  it  myself  sometime  when  I'm  alone,"  she  said, 
putting  the  things  away,  rough  dry.  She  would 
not  let  me  clean  up  and  put  to  rights  any  of  the 
upstairs  rooms,  though  she  had  at  the  first  specified 
that  work  as  something  she  was  especially  anxious 


74  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 


to    have    done,  and    I  suggested  it  eagerly  almost 
every  day. 

She  followed  me  about  constantly.  She  looked 
into  the  cupboard  when  I  was  by  to  see  if  I  had 
washed  the  dishes  clean.  She  addressed  we  with 
emphasis  for  having  scraped  the  wooden  potato- 
masher  with  a  knife,  whereas  I  had  used  the  side  of 
a  fork.  She  had  no  teakettle,  nor  would  she  let  me 
keep  hot  water  ready  to  use  in  any  other  utensil. 
"I  don't  like  water  standing  around,"  she  said. 
She  used  only  the  gas-range,  and  for  fear  of  fire  had 
not  a  match  in  the  house.  To  light  the  range  one 
lighted  a  burner  of  the  fixture  above  the  table  by 
the  electric  attachment,  then  twisted  a  piece  of 
paper  with  which  to  transfer  the  blaze.  She  sent 
me  twice  to  the  store  one  morning  because,  having 
bought  her  the  rump  steak  which  she  ordered,  she 
declared  it  to  be  a  sirloin.  She  nagged  me  continu- 
ally about  the  opening  and  shutting,  the  locking 
and  unlocking  of  the  doors,  windows  and  gates; 
about  the  lights,  and  the  animals.  She  was  forever 
at  my  heels.  Oh,  for  the  blessed  sanity  and  isola- 
tion of  the  Barry  kitchen !  There  the  family 
burdens  were  but  gently  confided,  not  strapped  to 
my  back,  flung  at  my  feet,  thrust  into  my  face  and 
dropped  over  my  head. 

Dimly  I  began  to  realize  that  my  temperament 
and  experience  were  no  help  in  my  relations  with 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber.  I  cannot  gush.  I  am  not  a 
sentimentally  sympathizing  comforter.  Nor  am  I 
experienced  in  pathognomonics.  I  always  pitied 
her,  when  not  too  much  disgusted — first  for  the 
loss  of  her  child,  and  then  for  the  lack  of  earlier 
training  in  unselfishness  and  self-control  which 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  75 

unfitted  her  for  the  bearing  of  this  loss.  In  the  second 
lack,  it  seemed,  was  the  greater  sorrow,  could  she 
have  but  felt  it.  But  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  hugged 
her  self-pity  and  her  theatrical  agonies. 

"  You  can  have  lunch  now,  if  you  want  to,  Eliza, " 
she  said,  coming  into  the  kitchen  Saturday  noon. 
"  I  don't  want  any ;  I  can't  eat. " 

I  advised  her  to  make  the  effort. 

"No,  no,"  she  said  with  perfect  naturalness,  "I 
can't,  Eliza."  And  immediately,  with  seeming 
deliberation,  she  began  to  pace  back  and  forth 
before  me,  faster  and  faster,  wringing  her  hands 
and  gasping  until  at  last  she  was  at  the  desired 
pitch  where  she  couldn't  stop.  I  could  not  help 
feeling  that  she  had  done  it  deliberately,  nor  did 
her  talk  contradict  the  impression. 

"Oh,  Eliza,  I  want  my  Milly  back — I  miss  her 
so  !"  she  wailed.  Then  with  the  next  breath,  "To 
think  of  all  the  trouble  I  had  with  her  to  bring  her 
up  nice — the  money  we  spent,  and  the  music  les- 
sons— all  wasted !" 

I  was  not  equal  to  the  situation.  What  could 
I  say?  "But  you  are  glad  you  had  her  as  long 
as  you  did,  aren't  you?"  I  ventured. 

"Oh,  but  she  was  a  care  always.  I  was  so  care- 
ful to  bring  her  up  nice  and  refined.  She  wasn't 
like  the  other  children  around  here,  hanging  on  the 
backs  of  wagons  and  running  out  their  tongues. 
My  Milly  was  nice  and  polite.  Anybody  on  this 
street  would  tell  you  so.  Why,  if  I  had  a  coloured 
girl  out  here  in  the  kitchen,  she  was  as  polite  and 
respectful  to  that  girl  as  she  was  to  me !  To  a 
coloured  girl !  What  do  you  think  of  that !  And 
she  was  just  getting  to  be  so  helpful,  and  I  kept 


76  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

thinking  it  would  be  only  a  few  years  now  before 
she  would  be  taking  care  of  herself." 

I  had  taken  my  lunch  to  the  farther  end  of  the 
kitchen  table.  ''She  might  have  been  very  unhappy 
if  she  had  lived,"  I  suggested,  looking  up  from  my 
plate. 

"Huh !  you  needn't  talk  to  me  that  way.  I  can't 
believe  that  she  wouldn't  be  a  great  deal  better  off 
with  me.  It  wasn't  right  for  her  to  die.  They 
needn't  tell  me  God  took  her:  He  had  no  business 
to;  and  if  there  is  a  God  I  hate  Him  for  it !"  she 
said  passionately,  the  tears  streaming  down  her  face. 
"I've  nothing  in  all  this  world  to  live  for  now." 

"Do  you  think  Milly  would  like  to  have  you  talk 
so?"  I  asked. 

What  could  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  be  made  of?  Her 
rapid,  passionate  walk  never  flagged.  I,  perfectly 
still,  was  worn  to  exhaustion. 

"Well,  if  she  were  here  I  wouldn't  want  to." 

"Why  not  try  to  be  brave  for  your  husband's 
sake?"  I  tried  again. 

"That's  what  Mrs.  Harrison  says,"  brightening 
for  an  instant.  "She  says  I  must  think  of  my 
husband  now  and  live  for  him ;  but  I  can't — I  can't. 
He  grieves,  too,  poor  man;  but  then,  he's  a  man 
and  away  all  day;  he  has  his  business." 

I  gave  rather  more  attention  to  my  lunch  for 
awhile. 

"I  am  sorry  for  my  husband,"  she  began  again. 
"I  have  this  burning  in  my  side,  Eliza.  He  won't 
have  me  long.  I  do  think  it  is  too  bad  that  he  should 
have  nothing  but  funeral  and  doctor  bills  to  pay. 

"We  had  Doctor  Lawton  for  Milly.  We  had 
another  doctor,  too,  but  Doctor  Lawton  was  called 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  77 

for  consultation.  He's  very  expensive,  but  we 
wanted  the  very  best.  Milly  had  typhoid  pneu- 
monia and  was  sick  three  weeks.  Doctor  Lawton 
said  she  wouldn't  have  lived  until  she  was  twenty 
anyway.  Doctor  Lawton  has  treated  me,  too.  I 
went  down  to  his  office  and  had  fifty  treatments 
at  one  dollar  each.  Fifty  treatments !  I  think 
perhaps  I'll  be  sick  again — with  a  fever,  perhaps. 
If  I  keep  on  this  way  I  may  get  a  fever.  People 
do  sometimes,  don't  they?  Don't  you  think  I 
may  have  a  fever?" 

"I  think  you  have  one  already,"  I  answered 
shortly  with  a  convulsive  grin  and  a  yearning  to 
turn  a  pail  of  water  over  her,  for  her  own  good. 
But  I  was  only  "the  girl,"  and  had  no  right. 

"Indeed,  it's  nothing  to  be  amused  at,  Eliza;  it's 
nothing  to  be  amused  at,"  rebuked  Mrs.  Kinder- 
lieber. 

' '  Believe  me  !  I  am  far  from  being  amused  at 
anything  so  sad,"  I  retorted. 

How  could  she  be  so  noisy?  It  was  an  ordeal, 
that  exhibition,  even  as  the  rehearsal  at  dinner  was 
an  ordeal.  Poor  Mr.  Kinderlieber  !  His  wife  wasn't 
the  only  one  who  was  sorry  for  him. 

"I  didn't  eat  any  lunch  to-day,"  she  began,  as  soon 
as  he  was  fairly  in  his  chair.  "Eliza  wanted  to  make 
different  things  for  me,  but  I  didn't  want  any- 
thing. I  went  on  terrible,  didn't  I,  Eliza  ?  Such  a 
choking  and  pain  at  my  heart ;  I  thought  I  was  going 
to  die." 

Mr.  Kinderlieber  looked  worried.  "It's  your 
nerves,"  he  said.  "Doctor  Lawton  said  it  was  the 
shock,  you  know." 

And    Mr.     Kinderlieber    advised    her    sensibly, 


78  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

patiently,  and  kindly,  she  consenting  to  nothing, 
like  an  unrestrained,  sulky  child  who  will  be 
miserable  in  its  own  way.  But  then,  Mr.  Kinder- 
lieber  said  only  the  same  things  I  had  said,  or 
had  wished  to  say.  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  would  not 
even  try  to  control  herself,  to  go  out,  or  to  think 
of  any  outside  interest;  and  in  so  far  as  any  one 
had  the  heart  to  suggest  such  things,  that  one  was 
insensible. 

"I  guess  you  never  had  any  great  trouble  like 
mine,  did  you,  Eliza  !"  she  asked  childishley  in  a 
semilucid  interval. 

"None  exactly  like  yours,"  I  answered.  "But  I 
have  had  my  troubles  for  all  that." 

"Have  you,  Eliza?  Did  you  cry  and  take  on  like 
I  do?  No,  I  guess  you  didn't." 

The  thought  pleased  her. 

Mr.  Kinderlieber  did  not  comment  upon  any 
household  matter  in  my  presence.  He  spoke  to 
me  only  rarely ;  but  it  is  possible  that  he  may  have 
spoken  about  me. 

"My  husband  says  I  shan't  let  you  go  Friday. 
He  likes  you  and  he  says  I  shall  keep  you  and  teach 
you  our  ways.  He  says  I'm  too  queer  for  anything. 
You'll  stay,  eh?" 

Mrs.  Kinderlieber  pronounced  this  little  speech 
over  my  shoulder  Monday  night,  as  I  stood  at  the 
dish-pan. 

"I  have  expected  to  go,"  I  replied,  "and  I'm 
afraid  it  wouldn't  be  wise  to  change  my  plan.  I 
should  have  to  think  of  it  awhile  anyway." 

An  innocent  little  dodge  enough,  I  thought,  and 
effective;  for  not  until  Thursday  morning,  when 
she  said  I  might  as  well  go,  since  I  was  bound  to, 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  79 

the  afternoon  being  mine  anyhow,  did  she  flare 
at  me  again;  nor  was  the  exhibition  of  Saturday 
morning  repeated.  That  meant  only  one  day  of 
restraint,  though,  for  on  Wednesday  she  went  off 
for  a  trip,  leaving  me  to  put  a  new  braid  upon  the 
bottom  of  her  skirt. 

I  did  not  consider  that  sewing  came  properly  with- 
in the  term  of  general  housework,  yet  I  was  only 
too  glad  to  do  it  for  her  if  she  would  only  go.  Once 
during  the  morning  I  almost  gave  up  hope.  She 
decided  to  go,  and  she  decided  not  to  go.  She  made 
neighbourhood  calls ;  she  arranged  for  Duke  to  stay 
with  Mrs.  Harrison  lest  he  and  Prince  get  to  fighting 
and  I  be  unable  to  separate  them;  she  laid  out  the 
food  for  all  the  animals;  she  took  old  Sultan  to 
various  rooms,  finally  leaving  him  in  the  sunshine  of 
her  own  third-story  front.  She  gave  me  endless 
instructions  about  the  doors,  and  at  last  she  was 
really  gone,  good  looks  and  all. 

"  I  may  not  be  much  to  look  at  now,  perhaps,  but 
my  husband  is  as  fine  a  looking  man  as  there  is  on 
this  street,  and  I — well,  when  I'm  dressed  up  we 
look  very  well  together." 

Her  day  away  was  good  medicine  for  her.  That 
night  she  seemed  almost  like  other  folks.  What  a 
relief  it  was !  Mr.  Kinderlieber,  too,  seemed  to 
make  the  most  of  the  improvement. 

"It's  just  as  well  Mrs.  Wolfe  couldn't  come  to  go 
with  me,  after  all,"  said  Mrs.  Kinderlieber,  con- 
cluding her  story  of  the  day,  "  because  the  fare  was 
one  dollar  and  seventeen  cents  both  ways.  If  she'd 
gone  it  would  have  been  twice  that.  It's  just 
as  well  to  have  the  money.  Don't  you  think  so, 
Eliza?" 


8o  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Mr.  Kinderlieber  gave  her  such  a  quick,  search- 
ing look !  But  he  said  nothing.  Perhaps,  after 
all,  it  was  as  Mrs.  Harrison  had  said,  that  the 
woman  really  was  not  herself  —  that  she  was 
"queered." 

"When  I  was  a  girl  I  was  brought  up  refined;  I 
went  to  school  and  had  training  in  manners.  I  went 
around,  too,  and  had  everything  I  wanted,"  she  had 
once  taunted  me,  though  upon  what  provocation  is 
no  clearer  to  me  now  than  it  was  then. 

Do  not  pathologists  tell  of  abnormal  mental 
states,  one  sign  of  which  is  a  social  degeneration; 
that  is,  carelessness  or  outrage  of  the  amenities  which 
tend  to  make  people  agreeable  to  one  another,  and 
society  endurable?  Can  one  so  diseased  lose  these 
sensibilities  and  yet  be  conscious  of  the  loss,  as 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber  appeared  at  times  to  be  ?  One  as 
wilfully  cantankerous  as  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  was 
cantankerous  must  be  mentally  disordered  in  so 
far  as  such  state  is  neither  regular  nor  healthy. 
But  ought  one  to  blame  such  disorder  upon  the 
accident  of  bereavement?  Is  it  not  rather  the 
result  of  emotional  indulgence  ?  Was  Mrs.  Kinder- 
lieber a  subject  for  the  nervous  specialist,  or  the 
ethicist  ? 

I,  who  deal  only  with  pots  and  pans,  dare 
not  venture  an  opinion.  I  know,  of  course,  that 
physical  and  mental  conditions  are  intimately 
interdependent;  that  one  cannot  sit  in  judgment 
upon  another's  moral  inadequacy  without  full 
knowledge  of  that  other's  hereditary  endowment; 
which  full  knowledge  one  can  never  have.  Why 
ponder  the  matter  ?  The  woman  was  in  a  sad  way ; 
but  it  was  not  possible  for  me  while  I  was  with 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  81 

her,  a  subordinate,  to  be  always  charitable.  It  was 
equally  impossible  for  me  to  stay  with  her — such 
are  my  limitations — though  she  seemed  at  the  last 
to  desire  nothing  so  much. 

"Well,  you've  decided  to  stay  with  us,  haven't 
you,  Eliza?"  she  asked  rather  off-hand  at  the 
Wednesday  night  dinner. 

"I  guess  not,"  I  answered,  with  a  shake  of  my 
head. 

"Eh?  Is  that  so?"  with  amused  interest  and  a 
significant  look  across  the  table. 

Afterward  she  came  out  into  the  kitchen  to 
persuade. 

"What  have  your  friends  said  about  your  staying 
here,  Eliza?  Don't  they  think  you'd  better  stay?" 

"I  don't  know,  Mrs.  Kinderlieber.  I  haven't 
asked  them.  I  decide  things  for  myself." 

"  So  ? "  softly.     ' '  You  have  another  place,  Eliza  ? ' ' 

"No,  not  yet.     I  haven't  looked." 

"Do  you  think  you'd  have  it  easier  anywhere 
else  than  you  would  with  us,  Eliza?  Only  two  in 
the  family;  there  couldn't  be  much  work.  I'd 
send  the  big  things  to  be  washed  outside." 

If  she  were  to  be  always  in  that,  her  then  present 
spirit,  I  could  not  have  asked  for  aught  more 
beatific.  Alas  !  I  could  not  trust  her. 

"I  don't  want  to  stay  where  I'm  not  wanted,"  I 
said. 

"But  I  do  want  you,  Eliza.  I  wouldn't  ask  you 
this  way  if  you  were  just  a  common  girl;  but  you 
are  refined  and  educated." 

"Humph!  All  the  education  I've  got  won't 
hurt  me,  or  I  wouldn't  be  doing  housework  for  a 
living." 


82  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"I've  wondered  what  makes  you." 

The  thought  came  to  me  then :  Was  it  possible 
that  all  the  unpleasant  passages — only  half  of  which 
have  been  told — and  all  the  irritations,  were  designed 
as  tests  ? 

"My  friends  all  like  you,  too,"  she  went  on  per- 
suasively. "Mr.  Harrison  said  the  other  night, 
'My,  but  that's  a  nice  girl  you've  got,  Mrs. 
Kinderlieber ! '  and  Mrs.  Harrison  has  often  said 
what  a  nice  girl  you  were,  and  how  she'd  often 
wished  she  could  get  such  a  one,  so  nice  and  tidy. 
My  friend  Mrs.  Wolfe  said  you  had  a  good  face ;  you 
were  honest,  she  said,  and  could  be  trusted." 

"  It's  very  pleasant  to  be  liked,  but  it  isn't  your 
friends  I  would  be  living  with,"  I  reminded  her. 

She  smiled.  "I  could  go  out  more  and  leave  the 
animals  with  you  and  feel  safe  about  them,  because 
I  know  you're  so  kind  and  I  could  trust  you.  I 
couldn't  feel  that  way  with  other  girls." 

"I  think  I'd  better  go,"  I  maintained.  "You 
see,  I've  been  planning  to  go  since  Saturday,  and 
somebody  else  would  suit  you  better  than  I  can, 
I  am  sure." 

' '  No ;  no  one  could  suit  me  better  than  you ;  you 
are  always  respectful,  and  I — well,  I  guess  I'm  not 
always  so  pleasant  as  I  might  be.  Any  other  girl 
would  have  been  saucy  right  away  and  would  have 
left." 

Mrs.  Kinderlieber  was  really  like  other  folks  that 
night.  But  my  mind  was  made  up. 

I  retired,  and  to  a  broken  rest.  There  was  no 
key  to  my  door  and  nothing  heavier  than  a  chair  that 
I  could  put  against  it.  Sometime  in  the  darkness 
of  the  night,  therefore,  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  burst  in 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  83 

upon  me.  A  dog  had  barked,  therefore  somebody 
must  be  trying  to  get  into  the  house. 

"Who's  there?  What  do  you  want?  Who  is 
it?"  she  called  repeatedly  from  my  window.  It 
wasn't  anybody,  of  course,  but  my  dreams  were 
spoiled. 

Thursday  morning  I  finished  her  skirt,  which 
she  said  was  done  very  nicely.  Mrs.  Kinderlieber 
was  always  pleased  with  the  result  of  my  labours. 
She  laid  out  my  three  dollars  and  a  half  and  I  was 
dismissed. 

I  couldn't  get  upstairs  quick  enough.  I  hadn't 
been  in  my  room  ten  minutes,  however,  when  she 
came  flying  up  after  me  in  a  snarling  rage.  It 
was  the  end  of  her  regretfully  subdued  temper  of 
all  the  morning. 

"Mrs.  Harrison  came  over  and  wiped  up  that 
water  for  me,"  she  snorted  in  my  face.  "I  was 
trying  to  wipe  it  up  when  she  came  over.  She 
knows  I  can't  stoop." 

The  last  thing  I  had  done  for  her  before  I  had 
left  the  kitchen  was  to  wipe  up  water  she  had 
spilled  over  the  floor  and  table  in  the  watering  of 
a  plant. 

Next,  peering  all  about  the  room,  she  had  the 
impudence  to  tell  me  in  what  condition  I  should 
leave  it ! 

I  said  "Yes'm"  to  everything,  meekly,  and  went 
on  with  my  packing. 

"Good-by,"  said  I,  poking  my  head  into  the 
parlor  on  my  way  past  the  open  door.  There 
sat  the  ubiquitous  Mrs.  Harrison  on  the  sofa  beside 
Mrs.  Kinderlieber,  tenderly  holding  her  hand,  and 
wrathful  with  vicarious  injury.  Mrs.  Kinderlieber 


84  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

sat  glumly  staring  into  space.  Neither  woman 
stirred  or  moved  a  muscle  in  answer. 

The  shutting  of  that  front  door  snapped  a  thread 
somewhere.  The  strain  was  over  and  I  was  almost 
too  limp  to  get  safely  on  to  the  sidewalk.  One  con- 
vulsive scream  I  heard  as  I  turned  down  the  street. 
I  could  not  help  it.  By  every  possible  way  in 
which  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  could  insult  me  by  word 
or  deed,  she  had  done  so.  Her  passions  had  been 
more  exhausting  than  a  whole  Barry  ironing,  and 
the  time  I  spent  in  her  house  was  as  one  long  horrid 
nightmare.  Go  back  again?  Stay  longer?  It  was 
not  in  human  endurance.  Tired?  To  the  very 
death.  Even  the  street  was  hateful. 

I  was  hailed  from  a  house  quite  a  way  down  on 
the  opposite  side,  by  a  woman  who  had  that  morning 
advertised  for  a  girl.  She  belonged  to  the  opposite 
faction  from  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  and  Mrs.  Harrison, 
for  the  neighbourhood  was  divided. 

"Thank  you,  you're  very  kind,"  I  said  to  her  who 
would  have  bargained  with  me;  "but  I  don't  feel  as 
if  I  could,  for  I  have  had  just  all  of  X—  -  Street 
that  I  can  stand.^ 

"Then  I  suppose  it  is  of  no  use  to  say  anything 
more,"  she  said  regretfully. 

I  shook  my  head,  a  weary  negative. 

"Everything  here  is  clean  and  nice,  there  are 
only  two  in  the  family,  no  children,  and  no  animals 
to  trouble  you ;  but  if  you  feel  that  way  about  the 
street  even,  it  is  no  use  to  talk— 

"No,  none  at  all,  "I  said. 

"I'm  sorry,  very  sorry,"  she  repeated,  and  the 
door  was  politely  closed. 

As  I  think  of  it  now,  I  could  hardly  have  said 


AS  IT  IS  IN  THE  ZOO  85 

a  neater  thing  in  the  way  of  revenge  on  Mrs.  Kinder- 
lieber,  though  nothing  was  farther  from  my  thought. 
.All  I  wanted  was  to  get  to  some  place  where  I  could 
lie  down  and  "let  go" — and  get  there  quick.  I 
went  to  the  country,  where  for  four  days  I  slept, 
sat  in  the  sunshine,  and  talked  not — so  exhaust- 
ing was  that  particular  epileptical  convulsion. 


An  exaggerated  and  peculiar  instance? — in  some 
respects  probably.  But  there  is  a  multitude  of 
women  who  have  a  new  girl  every  two  days  or  so. 
We  see  their  advertisements  in  the  papers  over 
and  over  again;  their  neighbours  see  the  newly 
engaged  come  and  go.  There  is  the  mistress  of  my 
ladylike  friend  in  red.  There  is  the  woman  who 
dismissed  her  new  servant  in  a  towering  rage  because 
the  girl  innocently  proposed  to  ring  a  bell  when 
breakfast  was  ready,  that  her  mistress  might  go 
down  and  view  the  table  critically. 

"No  girl  shall  ever  ring  a  bell  in  my  house  !" 
stormed  the  woman.  "How  dare  you  propose  it?" 

An  affront  to  her  dignity  presumably. 

In  short,  there  are  the  "half  cuts  who  don't 
know  how  to  treat  a  girl  so  that  she  can  stay 
long  with  them."  One  such  I  had  found,  sure 
enough. 


CHAPTER  V 
SPINSTERS  THREE 

BONNY,  winsome  Miss  Margaret,  the  beloved  and 
lovable  Miss  Eleanor,  and  sweet-natured  Miss 
Prudence,  really,  truly  ladies — I  had  been  working 
for  them  yet  but  for  personal  responsibilities. 

The  outside  of  the  modest  home  of  the  Wetherly 

sisters  was  so  like  a  well-remembered  house  in  X 

Street  that  I  had  barely  enough  courage  to  pull  the 
bell ;  but  inside,  "  Oh,  the  difference  to  me  ! "  I  felt  it 
before  I  had  fairly  crossed  the  sill,  I  read  it  in  Miss 
Margaret's  first  glance,  and  memory's  baleful  palpi- 
tations were  not.  Miss  Margaret  herself,  despite 
the  unprepossessing  negligee  of  short  outing  skirt 
and  dressing  jacket,  was  unmistakably  a  professional 
woman.  She  had  that  air  of  brisk  efficiency 
characteristic  of  one  who  knows  how  to  do  things 
and  does  them,  as  well  as  the  insistent,  persistent 
cheerfulness  not  unusual  to  brave  folk  who  have 
known  real  trouble.  Miss  Margaret's  house,  too — 
that  is,  the  little  I  could  note  from  my  place  in  the 
dining-room — suggested  comfort,  ancestors,  and 
somebody  in  the  present  generation  with  a  love  for 
books  and  a  taste  for  art. 

I  heard  nothing  about  my  own  refinement,  or  the 
coarseness  of  other  girls;  and  my  room  was  a  joy 
from  the  first.  It  was  only  such  a  room  as  I  should 
have  expected  from  the  Wetherlys  had  I  known 


88  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

them.  But  as  I  did  not  know  them,  I  could  hardly 
believe  that  I  had  not  made  a  mistake  on  the  morn- 
ing of  my  arrival,  when  I  stopped  before  the  open 
door  of  the  room  which  Miss  Margaret  told  me  was 
to  be  mine.  It  was  a  small  third-story  back  room, 
and  so  satisfied  the  conventions ;  yet  it  was  refreshing 
beyond  anything  in  my  late  experience,  for  it  was 
scrupulously  clean,  from  the  farthest  corner  of  the 
painted  floor  to  the  white  coverlet  upon  the  little 
white  iron  bed.  The  toilet  appointments  were 
sufficiently  complete  also,  and  entirely  clean,  even 
to  the  two  real  towels  upon  the  rack.  Moreover, 
there  was  a  bureau,  a  place  for  my  clothes,  and 
silent  invitation  to  stay  longer  than  one  week  should 
that  be  the  family  pleasure. 

When  I  had  put  on  my  working-dress  Miss  Mar- 
garet went  downstairs  with  me  in  such  a  cordially 
pleasant  and  chatty  fashion !  She  introduced  me 
to  my  workrooms  so  charmingly,  turning  over  to  me 
the  various  responsibilities  almost  eagerly,  and 
with  an  air  of  finality  and  relief  which  flattered 
while  it  amused. 

"Now,  Eliza,"  she  concluded,  "I  have  shown 
you  everything  I  can  think  of ;  but  you  poke  around 
for  yourself  and  find  what  there  is  here.  If  you 
need  anything  that  you  can't  find,"  with  an  em- 
phasis on  the  last,  "come  and  ask  me.  I  may 
know  just  where  it  is;  though  I  may  not,  Miss 
Eleanor  has  been  housekeeper  so  long. 

"I'll  not  expect  you  to  do  much  to-day,  except 
get  acquainted  with  us  and  learn  where  things  are, " 
she  went  on.  "  If  you  want  to  arrange  your  kitchen 
more  conveniently,  why  do  so. " 

Then  she  pulled  from  under  the  long  work-table 


SPINSTERS  THREE  89 

a  basket  partly  full  of  dampened  clothes.  "We 
had  a  washerwoman  all  day  yesterday  and  I  ironed 
here  last  night,  so  some  of  it  is  done.  I  didn't  want 
my  new  girl  to  begin  with  such  a  big  wash  or  ironing 
either, "  she  explained;  "that  would  be  almost  too 
discouraging.  Perhaps  you  can  do  some  of  these 
this  morning?" 

"Yes'm;  when  shall  I  have  them  done?"  I 
asked. 

"Oh,  any  time,  as  you  can;  it  doesn't  matter 
so  that  they  are  done. 

"And  one  last  thing:  I  am  going  to  ask  if  you 
won't  please  try  to  save  my  gas  bill  for  me, "  she  said. 
"  I  don't  want  to  be  niggardly,  I  always  allow  my 
girls  all  the  fire  they  need  to  use,  and  all  the  light 
they  need  to  use,  but  I  don't  like  to  have  either 
wasted ;  so  if  you'll  be  careful  about  turning  off  the 
gas  as  soon  as  you're  through  with  it,  and  about  not 
lighting  it  until  you're  ready  to  use  it,  I  shall  be  very 
appreciative.  It's  those  little  things  that  look  so 
big  when  they're  all  counted  up  in  the  bill  at  the 
end  of  the  month." 

I  said  "Yes'm"  again,  and  sincerely;  for  her 
interests  were  mine  already,  and  the  Wetherly 
range,  though  "perfect,"  was  just  then  awaiting 
a  man  from  town.  Miss  Margaret  spoke  hopefully 
of  the  time  when  it  could  be  used  again. 

"The  range  is  so  much  nicer,"  she  said,  meaning 
cheaper,  I  suppose. 

It  was  about  an  hour  before  Miss  Margaret  made 
a  second  visit  to  the  kitchen.  I  was  ironing. 

"How  are  you  getting  on,  Eliza?  Is  everything 
going  all  right?"  and  she  looked  around  inquir- 
ingly. "Why,  you've  made  the  kitchen  look  better 


90  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

already!"  she  exclaimed  heartily.  ''What  did  you 
do  to  it?" 

"I  washed  the  dishes,"  I  answered  simply,  really 
touched  at  her  friendliness.  It  seemed  hardly 
worth  while  to  specify  the  rest. 

"I  guess  that  is  it,"  Miss  Margaret  said,  laughing. 
"Things  take  on  such  an  unsettled  look  when  I'm  in 
charge !  Miss  Eleanor  says  housekeeping  is  not 
my  forte—  Why,  you've  scoured  the  coffee- 
pot!" she  interrupted  suddenly.  " Haven't  you?" 

"  I  washed  it, "  I  replied. 

"Are  you  sure  you  didn't  scour  it?  It  looks 
brighter,  anyway,"  and  she  took  it  down  from  its 
place  above  the  range  for  a  closer  view.  I  had 
given  it  a  couple  of  rubs  from  the  scouring-soap  I 
had  found  in  the  dish,  but  Miss  Margaret's  enthusi- 
astic notice  of  the  fact  came  as  a  touching  surprise 
number  two. 

Experience  had  not  prepared  me  for  the  cour- 
teously considerate,  appreciative  and  friendly  Miss 
Margaret.  Despite  contradictory  testimony,  a  servile 
dread  came  back  to  me  with  the  trying  on  of  my 
work  apron  that  rainy  morning.  How  could  I  help 
it?  The  Christian  civilization  of  the  Wetherlys 
was  a  thing  for  reverent  wonder,  as  the  smiling 
country  is  to  the  children  of  a  loathsome  slum 
alley ;  a  thing  to  be  grown  to.  It  was  strange  to 
be  in  working-dress  and  yet  a  recipient  of  the 
common  decencies  even,  and — I  confess  it  re- 
luctantly— with  very  little  encouragement  I  should 
have  wept. 

"How  long  do  you  cook  a  cabbage,  Eliza?" 
asked  Miss  Margaret,  appearing  to  me  again  about 
four  o'clock. 


SPINSTERS  THREE  91 

Never  having  cooked  a  cabbage,  my  reply  was  a 
little  vague. 

''Is  there  time  to  cook  that  one  out  on  the  shelf 
for  our  half -past  six  dinner  ?" 

Not  remembering  what  the  receipt-book  said 
about  cabbage,  I  could  only  "  think  likely." 

"Our  last  girl  boiled  cabbage  a  long,  long  time," 
said  Miss  Margaret,  "but  I  haven't  had  these  things 
to  think  of  lately,  so  I  forgot  to  tell  you  the  plan  for 
dinner.  We  want  it  right,  of  course,  though  it  is 
only  a  cabbage,  and  if  there  isn't  time  we  won't  try 
to  have  it  to-night." 

Miss  Margaret  seemed  so  doubtful  that  I  took 
chances  on  a  hazy  impression  and  assured  her  that 
I  thought  an  hour  more  or  less  would  be  enough. 

"Well,  do  it  your  way  if  there  is  time,"  she  con- 
cluded, trying  not  to  appear  as  one  who  is  ready  to 
endure. 

I  did  it  my  way,  which  was  the  way  of  my  book, 
changing  the  water  twice,  and  calling  it  done  after 
sixty-five  or  seventy  minutes.  I  managed  the 
chops  and  potatoes  in  the  same  way — that  is,  by 
the  book. 

"Eliza,  that  Boston  cook-book  is  all  right.  This 
cabbage  is  fine!"  said  Miss  Margaret,  as  I  took  up 
the  empty  bread-plate  in  answer  to  her  ring.  She 
beamed  upon  me.  I  grinned.  "Eliza,"  she  con- 
tinued with  much  sisterly  pride,  "Eliza,  this  is 
Miss  Eleanor,  whom  you  haven't  met  before." 

I  felt  shy,  but  a  heartily  distinct  and  pleasant 
"How  do  you  do?"  the  lady  Eleanor's  reply  to  my 
respectful  nod,  quite  shocked  me  out  of  it. 

Miss  Margaret  said  I  need  not  feel  obliged  to  iron 
in  the  evening,  but  the  things  were  all  out  and  the 


92  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

irons  hot;  besides,  it  seemed  a  good  way  to  spend 
the  time,  and  I  was  distrustful  of  the  morrow. 
Half -past  nine,  therefore,  brought  the  bottom  of 
the  basket  and  Miss  Margaret,  who  came  to  tell  me 
about  the  ending  of  my  day.  So  I  put  out  the  milk- 
can,  made  ice-water,  barred  the  shutters,  locked  the 
doors  and  went  to  bed — to  the  little  bed  with  the 
white  spread — a  bit  tired  but  tranquilly  minded. 

There  were  to  be  mutual  rejoicings  for  Miss 
Margaret  and  me  over  the  nice  things  in  each  other. 
Miss  Margaret,  sleeping  in  the  big  front  room  on  the 
same  floor  with  myself,  thought  it  was  "so  nice" 
that  I  could  awake  without  setting  the  alarm-clock 
— just  as  she  thought  it  was  so  nice  that  I  did  not 
drink  tea. 

"What!  You  don't  drink  tea?  You  don't 
drink  it  at  all?  Why — we  never  before  had  a  girl 
who  didn't  drink  tea!'*  exclaimed  the  delighted 
lady.  "  But  I  think  you're  sensible — I  do,  really. 
I've  lately  given  it  up  myself,  because  I  don't  think 
it's  good  for  people.  What  do  you  like  to  drink?" 

"Milk,  when  I  can  get  it,"  I  answered,  wickedly 
honest;  and  good  Miss  Margaret's  enthusiasm 
abated.  Yet  two  things  I  noted:  that  her  quart 
jar  of  tea  lasted  five  weeks  instead  of  two,  as  had 
been  the  case  before  my  advent,  and  that  she  didn't 
offer  to  take  extra  milk — not  that  I  expected  her 
to ;  it  isn't  customary,  I  suppose. 

If  I  had  taken  the  tea  habit  to  the  Wetherlys' 
my  work  there  might  have  slipped  along  more 
easily;  or  if  I  had  taken  little  between  lunches  on 
the  harder  days.  Not  that  my  ladies  did  not  live 
well  enough,  or  that  my  food  was  in  any  way 
restricted.  I  fared  exactly  as  the  three  women 


SPINSTERS  THREE  93 

whom  I  served,  and  at  the  first  it  seemed  substan- 
tially enough  for  the  work  I  had  to  do.  But  as  the 
days  passed  and  I  became  more  accustomed,  the 
work  dragged.  For  my  life  I  could  not  finish  the 
washing  before  half -past  three  in  the  afternoon. 
Just  over  the  fence  on  my  right,  a  little  undersized 
coloured  girl  with  a  family  of  five  hung  out  her  last 
piece  by  twelve  o'clock.  The  fag  end  of  the  ironing 
was  always  with  me  on  Wednesday  morning,  the 
best  I  could  do.  And  something  from  the  weariness 
of  the  one  week  lasted  over  to  the  beginning  of  the 
next.  I  grew  thin  so  that  Miss  Eleanor  remarked 
it  and  told  me  to  eat  more,  and  Miss  Margaret 
advised  me  to  drink  the  tea  if  I  needed  it.  Though 
I  sometimes  felt  that  a  midday  dinner  on  Mondays 
and  Tuesdays  would  have  been  agreeable,  if  some 
one  else  could  have  prepared  it,  I  did  not  see  in  that 
feeling  a  sufficient  explanation  of  why  I  could  not 
work  faster.  I  realized  only  that  I  was  always 
more  tired  than  I  ought  to  be,  and  too  slow  to  bother 
with  an  extra  lunch,  or  the  making  of  tea,  which  I 
did  not  like  anyway. 

On  this  matter  intelligence  dawned  slowly.  And 
meantime,  as  before,  the  ironing  made  Tuesday  my 
hardest  day.  There  was  lunch  to  be  prepared  and 
cleared  away,  and  the  afternoon  and  most  of  the 
morning  there  was  the  doorbell  to  answer.  Three 
times  it  rung  while  I  was  ironing  one  garment,  not 
to  speak  of  all  the  rest. 

Generally,  either  from  weariness  or  from  over- 
eagerness  to  be  through  with  the  ironing,  dinner 
was  late  and  otherwise  open  to  criticism.  But  I 
never  made  a  stew  on  Tuesday.  My  first  stew, 
which  occurred  (it  was  an  event)  on  a  Friday,  my 


94  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

third  day,  was  not  started  until  the  last  minute; 
because,  having  cleaned  Miss  Margaret's  room  and 
swept  the  sitting-room,  I  had  not  moral  courage  to 
call  my  brief  rest  over  at  any  minute  earlier  than 
the  last. 

"I  see  Miss  Eleanor  has  sent  home  this  piece  of 
lamb,  which  looks  to  me  as  if  it  were  meant  for  a 
stew.  What  does  it  suggest  to  you,  Eliza?" 

To  me  it  suggested  that  chapter  in  algebra 
where  one  devotes  days  and  nights  to  finding 
the  value  of  x.  I  was  not  familiar  with  produce 
in  its  raw  state.  I  said  I  didn't  know. 

"Well,  it  could  make  a  stew,  so  I  guess  we'll  let  it, 
Eliza.  And  I'm  so  glad,  for  we  haven't  had  a 
stew  for  a  long  time.  I  do  love  a  good  stew,  don't 
you?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  I  answered  with  a  far-away 
look.  Honest  enthusiasm  could  hardly  have  been 
expected  under  the  circumstances. 

"Oh,  yes,  Eliza !"  Miss  Margaret  coaxed.  "After 
we've  had  chops,  and  steak,  and  roasts,  and  fish 
broiled  and  baked,  what  else  is  there?  There  is 
nothing  then  so  satisfactory  as  a  nice  stew,  I  think; 
and  besides  all  its  other  attractions,  there  is  that  of 
economy,  which  is  no  inconsiderable  one.  You 
can  make  a  stew,  Eliza?"  she  asked,  as  if  with  a 
new  thought. 

"I  never  did.  Whether  I  can  or  not  will  be  seen, 
I  suppose,"  I  confessed  with  sudden  honesty,  for 
earlier  unexpected  successes — which  were  but  escapes 
from  failure,  after  all — had  made  me  bold. 

"Oh,  Eliza,  of  course  you  can  make  a  stew. 
Can't  you?"  Miss  Margaret,  having  discovered  that 
I  sometimes  tried  to  joke,  persisted  in  taking  my 


SPINSTERS  THREE  95 

negative  as  such  an  attempt,  whereas,  I  was  never 
more  serious. 

"I  never  did  make  a  stew,"  I  repeated,  in  full 
enjoyment  of  the  situation. 

"Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  how,"  said  Miss  Margaret, 
"though  I'm  no  cook — never  had  time  to  learn  and 
know  very  little  about  it.  Cut  your  meat,  put  it 
in  the  kettle  and  pour  cold  water  over  it  until  it  is 
well  covered;  boil  it,  season  it,  boil  some  potatoes, 
cut  them  in  halves,  and  then  make  a  nice  gravy 
with  brown  flour  and  pour  over  the  whole,  and 
there  you  have  your  stew.  There's  nothing  easier 
to  make,"  with  a  funny  little  air  of  superiority. 

"But  you  use  cold  water  for  soups,  when  you 
want  all  the  juice  drawn  out.  I  should  think 
you'd  pour  hot  water  over  meat  for  a  stew,"  I  ven- 
tured, recollecting  from  the  book. 

"Ye-es,  you're  right,  Eliza,  that  is  so,"  she  said, 
pretending  to  think  a  moment.  "I  told  you  I 
didn't  know  anything  about  cooking.  Well,  you 
make  the  best  stew  you  can,  and  then  if  we  like  our 
way  better  Miss  Eleanor  will  teach  you  our  way. 
Miss  Eleanor  cooks  very  nicely." 

Most  of  the  economical  cook-books  do  not  con- 
sider at  length  that  most  economical  of  prepara- 
tions, the  stew.  It  is  too  simple,  I  suppose.  Miss 
Margaret's  Philadelphia  cook-book  ignored  the  whole 
subject  superciliously.  My  own  did  better.  It 
said,  simmer  gently  for  one  hour,  which  was  correct 
enough  if  one  had  allowed  sufficient  time  for  the 
after  boiling.  I  had  not.  Finding  the  meat  so 
little  cooked  by  its  simmer,  I  developed  nerves  and, 
moving  the  kettle  over  the  hottest  part  of  the  stove, 
boiled  the  contents  furiously  for  the  next  hour. 


96  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

But  the  "little  behindhand,"  of  which  one  some- 
times hears  in  infancy,  had  already  made  its  innings. 
At  ten  minutes  of  seven  the  stew  was  served,  the 
meat  rather  hard  and  quite  tough — not  up  to  my 
standard,  in  fact. 

"We're  so  hungry,  Eliza !  We  had  begun  to 
fear  that  something  had  happened  to  our  stew,"  said 
Miss  Margaret  half -humorously,  as  I  set  it  before  her. 

"Most  likely  you'll  wish  something  had  happened 
to  it,  presently,"  I  muttered.  'Tisn't  good  for 
anything." 

"Not  so  bad  as  that,  I  hope,"  she  said  encour- 
agingly. "It  looks  good,  anyway." 

I  retired,  honestly  distressed  and  mortified. 

My  path  ran  deeper  yet  into  the  valley  of  humilia- 
tion, and  once  more  it  was  a  stew,  and  for  a  Friday. 
In  the  meantime,  however,  there  had  been  some 
tolerably  popular  home-made  bread,  too  popular 
to  last  until  the  next  baking-day.  Wherefore  I 
decided  upon  some  rolls  as  a  further  inducement  to 
forgetfulness,  and  to  that  end  approached  Miss 
Margaret  in  her  studio  on  the  matter  of  yeast. 

"And  none  of  the  day's  orders  have  come  yet, 
Miss  Margaret,"  I  suggested. 

"I  presume  Miss  Eleanor  forgot  to  leave  the  order 
this  morning;  she  went  off  in  great  perplexity  over 
something  else.  It's  too  late  to  expect  anything 
from  her  now,  however,  and  I'm  really  too  busy 
to-day  to  spare  the  time  to  go  to  market.  I  wonder 
if — would  you  mind  going  to  the  store  for  me?" 
she  suggested  hesitatingly. 

I  am  willing  if  I'm  not  experienced,  and  I  never 
mind  doing  anything  on  principle.  Our  conference 
was  continued,  therefore,  in  semi-facetious  fashion. 


SPINSTERS  THREE  97 

"I  shall  be  really  very  much  obliged  to  you  for 
going ;  it  will  save  me  a  good  deal  of  time.  The  next 
thing  is,  what  shall  we  have?  What  can  we  have 
that  will  be  nice  for  dinner,  Eliza?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Oh,  Eliza,"  deprecatingly.  "Of  course,  you 
know  something  to  suggest.  You  must  help  me 
think." 

"Stew,"  I  remarked  solemnly. 

"The  very  thing !"  declared  Miss  Margaret,  laying 
down  her  ruler.  "We  haven't  had  one  for  a  week. 
But  what  kind  of  a  stew  shall  it  be?"  Then  after 
thinking  a  moment,  "What  do  you  say  to  a  chicken  ? 
We  haven't  had  a  chicken  for  a  long  time  and  Miss 
Eleanor  is  very  fond  of  it.  Can  you  pick  out  a  nice 
chicken?  Are  you  country  girl  enough  to  know 
chickens?" 

"I  know  'em  when  I  see  'em  running  around 
with  their  feathers  on,  and  I  have  seen  a  few  that 
had  lost  their  feathers,"  I  replied.  "I'm  quite 
likely  to  mistake  their  age,  though." 

"Well,  I  guess  we'll  have  chicken,  if  Mr.  Sellem- 
quick  has  any  good  ones.  Tell  him  you  want  the 
best  stewing  chicken  he  has;  and  Eliza,  don't  let 
him  stick  you  because  you  aren't  Miss  Eleanor.  If 
you  don't  think  it  looks  good,  don't  you  take  it. 
Now,  what  vegetables  are  good  with  chicken?" 

I  suggested  potatoes. 

"Yes,  potatoes;  and — why,  rice,  of  course,  and  I 
think  we  haven't  any.  Ought  we  to  get  one  pound 
or  three,  I  wonder?" 

I  had  not  the  remotest  idea,  but  having  a  general 
impression  that  rice  swelled  a  good  deal.  I  observed 
that  "A  little  goes  a  long  way." 


98  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Yes,  one  pound  is  enough  to  get  at  one  time. 
Though  if  you  see  that  it's  going  to  be  too  little,  get 
more.  I  remember  we  told  our  last  girl  to  put  a 
little  in  some  soup,  meaning  about  a  thimbleful, 
and  she  put  in  a  cupful.  All  the  available  dishes 
in  the  house  overflowed  with  rice,  and  we  lived  on 
it  for  the  next  two  weeks. 

"Well,  what  else  can  we  have;  chicken,  potatoes, 
rice — it's  so  hard  to  think  of  things  here  at  home  !" 

"You  might  have  salad,"  I  suggested. 

"Yes,  we  might,  we  will.  And  pick  out  a  heavy 
head,  Eliza,  because  we  like  those  light  inside  leaves. 
Then  that  will  be  our  dinner. " 

Innocence  and  credulity,  qualities  beautiful  in 
their  place,  are  of  no  great  service  in  one's  business 
relations  with  the  Sellemquicks.  A  long,  lean-neck, 
orange-legged  fowl  with  curvature  of  the  spine  and 
all  the  toughness  of  an  ancient  dowager  was  passed 
out  to  me. 

"There,"  said  the  wily  shopkeeper,  "is  a  nice, 
tender  one,  good  enough  to  satisfy  anybody.  You 
could  roast  that  chicken." 

I  looked  upon  it,  knowing  just  enough  to  be 
unfavourably  impressed  and  no  more.  I  observed 
that  the  bird  seemed  to  have  been  not  so  young  as 
some  I  had  seen. 

"Young!"  retorted  Sellemquick  testily.  "It's 
the  best  there  is  in  the  market.  You  can't  expect 
to  get  spring  chickens  in  May." 

That,  I  reflected,  was  very  likely  true ;  doubtfully, 
therefore,  I  decided  to  take  it.  A  most  deceptive 
fowl !  It  un jointed  as  slick  as  any  fledgling  and 
seemed  to  be  sweet  enough,  wherefore  I  set  it  away 
untroubled. 


SPINSTERS  THREE  99 

Somewhere  in  my  book  I  saw  "A  chicken  will 
become  tender  with  one  hour's  boiling."  Deter- 
mined to  be  on  the  safe  side  I  allowed  for  two  hours 
and  a  half.  Five  hours  and  a  half  would  have  been 
wiser,  but  whence  and  why  that  peculiar  odor  as 
the  thing  cooked  ?  All  the  removable  arrangements 
had  been  extracted  without  breaking,  and  it  ought 
not  to  be.  But  it  was,  and  as  I  did  not  know  the 
cure,  I  ignored  the  evil. 

Miss  Eleanor  was  late  in  getting  home  that  night. 

"If  dinner  is  ready,  Eliza,  Miss  Prudence  and  I 
will  have  ours  and  not  wait  for  Miss  Eleanor.  I 
don't  know  what  time  to  expect  her  now,  and  I'm 
already  due  at  my  French  class,  which  has  its  last 
meeting  to-night, "  said  Miss  Margaret. 

So  I  stuck  my  fork  into  the  stewing  bird  at  a 
quarter  of  seven.  It  went  in  easily,  but  what  a 
doubtful  odour !  I  made  the  gravy,  however,  and 
set  the  whole  before  Miss  Margaret.  What  that 
lady  found  to  be  so  amused  over,  as  she  came  out  a 
little  later  to  leave  some  message  about  the  coming 
of  Miss  Eleanor,  I  did  not  then  see.  I  was  not  to 
see  until  I  sat  down  to  my  own  dinner  at  the  end  of 
the  long  work-table.  A  drumstick  I  selected,  and 
relaxing  in  my  solitude  to  the  ways  of  barbarity,  I 
planted  both  elbows  on  the  table  ready  for  a  delicious 
gnaw. 

Drumsticks  and  whalebones !  I  couldn't  get  my 
teeth  into  the  meat.  I  tried  a  piece  from  the  breast. 
It  was  quite  as  bad,  if  not  worse.  What  a  mess  ! 
And  the  Wetherlys  were  so  nice,  too ! 

There  was  a  back  to  my  chair  luckily,  for  the 
blow  was  a  heavy  one;  but  at  the  end  of  ten  min- 
utes my  chagrin  was  swallowed — the  worst  of  it — 


ioo  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

and  my  cogitations  finished.  I  proceeded  on  potato, 
rice  and  salad,  with  determination  in  my  soul. 

There  was  a  semi-humourous  meeting  upstairs 
that  evening,  when  I  took  up  the  ice-water;  which 
meeting  might  not  have  happened,  after  all,  if  Miss 
Eleanor  had  not  called  to  me  about  some  matter. 
But  one  were  craven  indeed  not  to  seize  the  chance 
the  gods  have  provided  ready  to  her  hand.  It  was 
an  informal  session.  From  one  of  the  few  steps  in 
the  hall  opposite  the  sitting-room  door  I  expressed 
the  hope  that  they  had  enjoyed  their  lovely  dinner 
that  night. 

"Eliza  seems  to  be  sarcastic,"  murmured  Miss 
Margaret,  who  sat  upon  the  couch,  her  hat  and 
jacket  still  on. 

"The  salad  was  extra  nice,  I  thought,  and  the 
potato,  too,  was  good, "  replied  Miss  Eleanor. 

"And  the  chicken  was  delicious,"  I  added. 

"I  wanted  more — Miss  Margaret  didn't  save  me 
enough — only  I  was  afraid  you  hadn't  it  warm  and 
had  banked  the  fire, "  said  Miss  Eleanor  soberly. 

"  Well,  I  tell  you  what  it  is ;  you  people  better  get 
somebody  who  knows  a  few  things  about  what 
she  pretends  to  know,  for  I  am  going  to  get  a  place 
to  do  chamber-work,"  I  announced. 

"Are  you  in  earnest  ? "  asked  Miss  Eleanor  quickly. 
"No,  you're  joking." 

Miss  Margaret  only  looked. 

"No,  I'm  in  earnest.  To-night's  effort  was  a 
settler  and  I'm  done  with  cooking.  It's  too  wearing 
on  the  nerves — to  say  nothing  about  the  rest. " 

"But  we  don't  want  you  to  go!"  cried  both  at 
once.  "We  haven't  complained.  Have  you  heard 
us  complain?" 


SPINSTERS  THREE  101 

"No-o,  but  that  isn't  because  you  didn't  have 
reason,"  I  maintained. 

"But  if  we're  satisfied,  why  should  you  care?" 
asked  Miss  Eleanor,  in  seeming  mystification. 

"Because  my  sense  of  decency  will  not  let  me 
pretend  to  be  a  cook  and  take  money  for  such 
miserable  messes,"  I  answered. 

"We'll  teach  you  to  cook,"  said  Miss  Eleanor, 
' '  and  be  glad  to,  for  you  wouldn't  need  to  be  told 
the  same  thing  more  than  once.  That  beef  heart 
hash  I  told  you  about  you  made  for  the  first  time 
as  well  as  I  could  myself." 

"  I—  Better  get  a  girl  who  knows  how  to  begin 
with.  I'm  going  to  do  chamber-work,  because  that 
doesn't  take  any  brains,"  I  persisted. 

"It  is  three  years  now  since  I  gave  up  bathing  in 
my  room  because  I  couldn't  trust  the  girl  to  do  the 
chamber-work  properly,"  quietly  observed  Miss 
Margaret. 

That  I  held  to  be  the  result  of  "pure  cussedness" 
rather  than  any  lack  of  ability. 

My  fancied  intelligence,  by  the  by,  seemed  to  be  a 
matter  for  speculation  among  the  sisters. 

"How  long  do  people  go  to  school  up  in  your 
State,  Eliza?"  Miss  Margaret  had  queried.  "It 
seems  as  though  you  must  have  gone  to  school  more 
than  many  of  the  girls  this  way,  you  have  so  much 
head ;  you  remember  the  things  we  tell  you,  to  do 
them  the  second  time." 

Fourteen  years  I  believed  to  be  the  age  limit  of 
compulsory  education  in  Massachusetts. 

"  But  you  went  to  school  longer  than  that?" 

;<  Yes,  I  went  a  little  after  I  was  fourteen." 

"  Why  I  thought  so  especially  was  on  account  of 


102  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

the  readiness  with  which  you  learned  our  way  of 
managing  the  fires.  Our  last  girl  we  showed  over 
and  over  again.  It  was  three  weeks  before  we  could 
trust  her  to  do  it  right,  and  she  was  a  well-meaning 
girl,  too." 

"  Perhaps  she  was  unusually  slow,'*  I 
suggested. 

"Perhaps,"  agreed  Miss  Margaret. 

The  care  of  the  Wetherly  fires,  both  in  furnace 
and  range,  had  been  reduced  to  a  science;  and  the 
theory,  like  anything  else  really  scientific,  was 
beautifully  simple.  As  for  their  little  preferences 
and  suggestions  of  better  ways,  one  who  couldn't 
remember  them  as  she  went  along  was  stupid 
indeed. 

"I  know  what's  the  matter.  We  don't  live  well 
enough  for  Eliza,"  said  Miss  Eleanor. 

"  She  has  been  used  to  a  very  good  table ;  the  stew 
is  new  to  her,  and  her  standard  high,"  commented 
Miss  Margaret.  "  Have  you  lived  in  the  big  houses, 
Eliza,  with  wealthy  people,  that  you  can't  be  con- 
tented to  stay  with  us  and  learn  to  cook  ? ' ' 

"Eliza  only  took  this  place  till  she  could  get 
another,"  suggested  Miss  Eleanor.  "She  means 
to  get  a  place  out  in  the  country  for  the  summer, 
with  people  who  have  lots  of  money." 

"Well,  it  is  too  hot  to  live  and  work  in  this 
town,"  I  answered,  and  truly. 

The  mystery  was  solved.  They  sighed  and 
accepted  the  inevitable — for  the  moment. 

"Where  have  you  spent  your  summers,  Eliza?" 
asked  Miss  Margaret,  scenting  the  periodic  flit  tings 
en  retinue,  to  and  from  the  out-of-town  house. 

"Oh,  in  town,  or  just  a  little  outside — not  far 


SPINSTERS  THREE  103 

enough  out  to  be  too  cool,"  I  answered  nonchalantly. 
"I  tell  you  how  it  is,"  I  said  at  last;  "I— I— - 
Why,  I'm  going  to  be  married,  but  I'll  stay  till 
you  get  somebody  else." 

"No— are  you?  Oh,  Eliza,  don't!  What  do 
you  want  to  do  that  for  ? " 

"What  does  anybody  want  to  get  married  for?" 
I  asked.  I  had  merely  recalled  and  repeated  a 
fortune-teller's  silly  prediction. 

"That's  more  than  I  know,"  declared  both 
at  once.  "Stay  with  us  and  be  sensible," 
added  Miss  Eleanor,  "and  we'll  teach  you  to 
cook." 

"It's  this  way,  Eliza,"  said  Miss  Margaret,  con- 
fessing that  personality  was  an  important  considera- 
tion for  them.  "Miss  Eleanor  got  supper  on  the 
chafing-dish  all  one  winter  because  we  simply  could 
not  eat  the  messes  that  came  from  the  kitchen.  But 
we  kept  our  girl  because  she  was  good  in  other  ways. 
So  you  see !" 

I  saw  perfectly  well  why  they  chose  to  do  that 
way,  but  I  did  not  like  the  idea  of  living  on  an 
agreeable  personality.  I  felt  that  it  robbed  me  of 
my  dignity  as  a  labourer. 

"The  rest  of  them  don't  care,"  said  Miss  Eleanor. 
"All  they  want  is  their  wages ;  you  do  care  and  try, 
and  we  appreciate  it.  That  fact  alone  is  worth 
three  dollars  a  week  to  us." 

"  I  want  my  wages,  too,  or  I  wouldn't  be  working. 
But  I  much  prefer  to  earn  'em,  and  I  don't  want  the 
knowledge  that  I  have  spoiled  three  good  diges- 
tions to  haunt  me  all  my  days." 

"Stay  until  the  first  of  June,  Eliza,  until  I  finish 
my  work  in  town.  We  can't  get  on  without  a  girl 


io4  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

now;  there  aren't  hours  enough  in  the  day  as  it 
is,"  said  Miss  Eleanor  pleadingly. 

I  agreed  to  that  readily  enough.  "  I  only  wanted 
to  tell  you  what  I  had  decided  so  that  you  could  get 
another  girl  in  the  spring,  while  they're  to  be  had," 
I  said,  "if  it  isn't  already  too  late.  You  oughtn't 
to  have  taken  me,  anyway." 

"Oh,  let's  not  think  of  it  any  more,  Eliza,"  said 
Miss  Margaret.  "Go  to  bed  and  sleep.  You'll  feel 
better  in  the  morning  and  decide  to  stay  with  us." 

It  was  pleasant  for  me  there  at  the  Wetherlys', 
and  when  I  said  so  I  spoke  truly.  There  was  a 
rocking-chair  in  the  kitchen.  On  sunny  days  there 
was  the  pleasant  outdoor  workroom  beyond  the 
kitchen  door,  floored  by  the  brick  sidewalk,  roofed, 
and  screened  across  by  vines.  On  Mondays  I  had 
my  tubs  out  there  on  the  bench.  I  liked  to  sit  in 
the  doorway  with  my  pan  of  potatoes  or  other 
vegetables.  There  was  a  trim  little  pocket  hand- 
kerchief of  a  yard  beyond,  which  could  not  possi- 
bly accommodate  a  whole  wash  at  once,  but  the 
various  rose-bushes  aspiring  to  cover  the  fences  all 
the  way  around  were  pleasant  to  look  upon. 

"Miss  Eleanor  is  very  fond  of  flowers,"  said  Miss 
Margaret;  "are  you?  because  we  have  a  lot  of 
them." 

I  brought  back  a  handful  of  buttercups  from 
the  Park  one  Sunday  night.  That  was  a  night  of 
wonders.  Because  first,  in  all  their  lives  before, 
Miss  Margaret  and  Miss  Eleanor  had  never  known 
a  girl  to  get  back  from  an  afternoon  as  early  as  seven 
o'clock.  They  were  getting  supper,  so  I  presented 
my  floral  offering  in  the  kitchen. 

"What — for  us?     Did  you  pick  them  for  us,  on 


SPINSTERS  THREE  105 

i 

purpose?  Truly?  Why,  never  before  did  we  have 
a  girl  do  so  much  as  that  for  us. " 

I  was  called  from  my  room  to  eat  my  supper.  I 
had  been  prepared  to  go  without. 

"Why  didn't  you  come  down  sooner?  We  had  a 
place  all  fixed  for  you  in  the  dining-room  with  us, " 
said  Miss  Eleanor. 

"Me — in  the  dining-room — with  you?"  I  stam- 
mered. 

"Yes;  wouldn't  you  like  that?  We  thought  we 
should." 

"  It  would  have  been  very  pleasant, "  I  answered, 
"but  my  place  is  out  here,  and  I  think  I'd  better 
stay  in  it  always  since  I  must  sometimes.  It's 
simpler." 

"Feel  free  to  come  upstairs,  Eliza,  as  soon  as  you 
like;  Miss  Eleanor  and  I  are  alone,"  Miss  Margaret 
had  said  to  me  my  first  evening  there. 

"Yes'm, "  I  had  said  meekly,  without  in  the  least 
realizing  that  it  was  an  invitation  to  sit  with  them 
in  the  sitting-room. 

The  Wetherlys  were  interested  in  me  as  an  indi- 
vidual, and  improved  convenient  opportunities  to 
get  acquainted,  cheerfully  bearing  the  burden  of 
conversation  to  that  end.  They  told  me  about  my 
predecessor  who,  having  been  accustomed  to  do  all 
the  drudgery  for  a  large  family  of  step-brothers  and 
sisters,  "could  fly  around  and  do  an  amazing  lot  of 
work  in  a  few  minutes,  rush  upstairs  and  get  her 
dress  changed,  hurry  down  to  the  sitting-room,  and 
sew  to  beat  the  band. " 

"  She  just  loved  to  sew, "  said  Miss  Margaret,  "and 
used  to  make  almost  all  our  underclothes  for  the 
pure  fun  of  doing  it." 


io6  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Eleanor,  "and  I  spent  all  my 
time  and  almost  all  my  money  buying  more  cloth 
to  make  right  sides  enough  to  match  her  lefts. " 

I  listened  and  was  amused,  yet  I  could  not  rise 
to  the  presumption  of  freedom  with  the  family 
sitting-room.  In  more  general  talk  about  "girls," 
for  that  was  the  subject  of  the  hour,  Miss  Eleanor 
said  in  so  many  words : 

"  We  can't,  as  we  are  situated,  have  any  but  really 
nice  girls ;  if  we  can  by  any  mistake  or  fortune  keep 
such  a  one  for  a  few  minutes,  we  want  her  to  feel 
that  she  is  one  of  us,  in  so  far  as  it  is  possible.  Two 
girls  are  company  for  each  other,  but  one  always 
down  in  the  kitchen  by  herself  gets  lonesome  and 
dumpy,  and  pretty  soon  she  comes  and  says  she 
guesses  she'll  leave.  'What's  the  matter?'  Noth- 
ing's the  matter,  only  she  wants  to  get  another  place. 
We  three,  Miss  Margaret,  Miss  Prudence  and  I,  are 
so  much  by  ourselves  that  we  get  lonely,  too,  and 
really  eager  for  a  new  interest.  So  our  way  works 
for  the  good  of  both.  If  we  happen  to  have  com- 
pany, of  course  it  is  different ;  but  a  really  nice  girl 
wouldn't  think  of  sitting  down  with  us  when  there 
was  company." 

I  said,  "Yes,  it  was  a  good  way,"  but  a  personal 
application  never  occurred  to  me.  I  liked  to  stop  a 
few  minutes  with  them  when  I  took  up  the  water 
at  night  and  play  with  Jess.  I  came  to  look  for- 
ward to  it,  in  fact,  as  to  a  pleasant  ending  for  a 
solitary  day.  If  the  ladies  were  not  busy  there  was 
more  or  less  extended  interchange  of  facetious 
remark. 

But  I  never  wandered  far  from  the  hall  door 
or  stopped  with  them  at  any  other  time  without 


SPINSTERS  THREE  107 

special  invitation.  It  did  not  seem  natural;  though 
if  they  had  persisted  in  being  so  nice  to  me  it 
might  have  come  to  seem  so  by  Christmas  time. 

I  did  enjoy  working  for  the  Wetherly  sisters. 
Miss  Margaret  and  Miss  Eleanor  so  managed  that 
the  work  appealed  to  my  pride  and  sense  of  de- 
pendableness.  "Will  you  have  time  for  this?  Can 
you  do  that,  just  as  well  as  not?  I  think  we 
should  have  the  other  to-day."  It  was  the  fashion 
of  their  orders.  I  began  to  feel  the  dignity  of  my 
position  as  an  independent  worker,  and  to  outgrow 
the  shame  of  being  only  a  housework  girl,  felt  in 
spite  of  myself ; 

The  sisters  would  have  persuaded  me  to 
stay  with  them  at  least  a  year,  that  Miss  Eleanor 
might  go  away  to  study  feeling  that  Miss  Margaret 
had  been  left  "in  safe  and  competent  hands." 
They  were  wily  ladies. 

"It  would  be  a  great  weight  off  Miss  Eleanor's 
mind,  Eliza,  if  you  would  stay  with  us.  Think 
how  easy  it  would  be  here  all  next  year,  with  Miss 
Eleanor  gone — just  Miss  Prudence  and  I." 

"I  know,"  said  I. 

"And  it's  very  quiet  here;  very  few  people  ever 
come  to  see  us.  You  would  have  no  expenses,  and 
not  a  thing  to  worry  you.  If  you  want  to  get 
experience  in  cooking,  it  is  a  good  chance ;  for  in  the 
course  of  a  year  we  have  almost  everything  that 
comes  to  market." 

Miss  Margaret  talked  with  me  long  and  confi- 
dentially in  a  way  which,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, must  have  inspired  one  to  hopeful  work. 
I  had  seemed  so  discouraged  about  my  work,  she 
said;  but  with  patience  and  practice  there  were 


io8  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

heights  to  be  gained  even  in  housework.  Cookery 
was  a  fine  art ;  laundry  work  had  been  carried  almost 
to  perfection;  and  even  in  sweeping  and  dusting 
there  were  specialists  with  regular  customers  from 
among  those  whose  furnishings  were  too  elegant 
and  whose  bric-a-brac  too  costly  to  be  trusted  to  an 
indifferent  worker.  High  excellence  with  propor- 
tionate earnings  were  possible  to  me  if  I  would  try 
for  them. 

I  told  Miss  Margaret  I  hoped  that  there  would 
not  always  be  the  need  for  me  to  do  house- 
work; that  I  felt  justified  in  making  other  plans. 

"Oh,  then  you  are  really  able  to  do  something 
besides  housework !  I  hope  you'll  pardon  me,  but 
I  thought  yours  was  only  the  discontent  of  a  vain 
ambition,  as  is  the  case  with  so  many.  For  gener- 
ally a  girl  won't  stoop  to  this — won't  soil  her  hands 
with  housework  if  she  ever  has  done  or  can  do  any- 
thing else." 

"It's  very  foolish  of  them,"  said  I. 

"I  think  so,  too,  Eliza.  I've  no  patience  with  the 
way  the  girls  do  about  this  matter  of  living  out- 
still  I — I 'don't  believe,  if  I  had  such  a  decision  to 
make  for  myself,  that  I  could  do  as  you  have  done 
either.  Certainly  I  could  not  have  done  it  without  a 
struggle." 

I  had  begun  to  live  out,  I  told  her,  because  I  had 
"got  into  a  hole,"  having  lost  my  place  at  office 
work  and  none  other  satisfactory  appearing  at 
hand. 

Miss  Margaret  advised  me  not  to  forget  or  be 
diverted  from  the  particular  work  I  wanted  to  do, 
except  temporarily  in  case  of  need. 

"I  have  succeeded  very  well  in  my  own  work," 


SPINSTERS  THREE  109 

she  said,  "and,  of  course,  that  success  tickles  my 
pride.  But  it  isn't  the  work  I  would  have  chosen ; 
it  is  the  work  I  was  obliged  to  do.  I  have  never 
felt  fully  satisfied  to  be  working  at  it,  and  if  I  could 
give  it  up  to-day  and  do  the  other  I  would,  gladly. 
I  don't  wonder  that  you  don't  want  to  keep  at 
housework,  though  I  do  wish  you  would  stay  here, 
now  more  than  ever." 

Miss  Margaret  assured  me  that  I  seemed  to  be 
made  for  their  need. 

Both  sisters,  I  noticed,  seemed  to  have  more 
business  in  the  kitchen  after  that,  though  they 
came  so  very  apologetically.  Did  I  mind  ?  Would 
they  be  in  my  way?  If  it  would  be  any  trouble, 
they  could  wait  until  Thursday.  And  if  the  door 
happened  to  be  closed,  I  believe  they  knocked.  I 
couldn't  have  been  more  timid  about  entering  the 
family  sitting-room. 

Having  said  "No;  certainly  not/'  and  the  like 
several  times,  I  amplified  one  day.  "As  I  don't 
propose  to  do  anything  in  this  kitchen  that  I'm 
ashamed  of,  I  don't  see  why  I  should  mind." 

"Oh,  well,  we  didn't  know — we  don't  want  to 
intrude  or  be  a  nuisance,"  replied  Miss  Margaret 
rather  foolishly. 

I  have  since  wondered  if  that  show  of  reluctance 
were  with  burlesque  intent. 

Besides  other  things,  Miss  Margaret  came  down 
one  day  to  iron  a  new  waist  for  Miss  Eleanor.  And 
Miss  Eleanor  came  down  one  evening  to  iron  three 
new  waists  for  Miss  Margaret.  I  offered  to  do  the 
work,  of  course;  but  privately,  I  think  the  results 
were  as  pleasing  as  though  my  offer  had  been 
accepted. 


no  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

It  isn't  wholly  the  result  of  egotism,  the  notion 
that  1  served  to  those  ladies  as  a  cause  for  much 
speculation.  They  never  pumped,  but  the  deli- 
cately and  cleverly  arranged  opportunities  for  con- 
fidence were  not  few.  It  was  a  pity  to  be  so  reticent 
about  one's  own  concerns  and  preferences. 

"Eliza  looks  always  as  if  she  was  thinking  of 
something ;  perhaps  she  is  an  anarchist  and  plans  to 
blow  us  all  up.  Are  you  an  anarchist,  Eliza." 

"Eleanor,  you  must  not  tease  Eliza,"  reproved 
Miss  Margaret. 

"I'm  not  teasing  Eliza;  she  doesn't  mind.  And 
if  she  isn't  an  anarchist,  what  is  she  always  think- 
ing about,"  persisted  Miss  Eleanor. 

"What  were  you  thinking  about,  Eliza?"  asked 
Miss  Margaret.  "Do  satisfy  Miss  Eleanor  if  you 
can." 

"I  was  thinking  about  the  meat,"  which  I  had 
just  placed  before  Miss  Margaret,  "and  hoping  it 
was  done  right." 

They  laughed  and  I  retired.  It  was  the  truth, 
though. 

But  after  awhile  there  was  a  greater  interest — 
the  Wetherly  sisters  had  an  excitement  of  their 
own.  I  did  not  know  of  it  officially  until  I  returned 
Thursday  night,  though  the  word  came  at  noon 
just  after  dinner  that  Miss  Eleanor  had  gained  two 
signal  honours  in  her  work.  I  knew  something 
of  it  sooner ;  it  was  impossible  not  to,  with  my  sensi- 
tive bones  and  Miss  Margaret  moving  about  so 
evidently  excited.  The  sisters  opened  the  door  for 
me  a  little  after  ten  and  stood  together  in  the  parlour 
doorway  resolving  some  design,  as  I,  being  weary, 
dropped  upon  the  hall  sofa  before  them. 


SPINSTERS  THREE  m 

"Eliza  isn't  so  afraid  of  us  as  she  was,"  observed 
Miss  Eleanor. 

"Afraid  of  you?     Was  I  ever?" 

"You  wouldn't  have  sat  there  for  your  life  four 
weeks  ago." 

"Oh,  I—  Really,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  ex- 
claimed hastily.  It  was  the  effect  of  having  just 
come  from  friends  who  knew  Eliza  only  from  hearsay. 

"Don't,  for  pity's  sake  don't  spoil  it  now  that 
we've  got  what  we've  been  working  for  all  these 
weeks,  even  if  you  are  going  right  away !"  said  Miss 
Eleanor.  "The  other  way  is  so  silly  !" 

Then  there  was  a  pause.  I  knew  that  it  was 
coming. 

"Tell  her,"  said  Miss  Margaret. 

"No,  you;  I  don't  want  to,"  said  Miss  Eleanor. 

And  Miss  Margaret  told,  seeming  like  to  burst  for 
her  pride. 

"Really?  How  fine!  And  I'm  that  proud," 
said  I. 

"That's  a  yarn,"  said  Miss  Margaret,  "for  you 
don't  care  one  bit  or  you'd  stay  with  us."  She 
was  excited. 

But  I  was  glad,  and  listened  to  the  whole  story 
lovingly  told. 

"Oh,  let's  change  the  subject,"  said  Miss  Eleanor. 
"What's  your  book,  Eliza,  and  where  did  you  get  it  ?" 
'  Fors  Clavigera,'  from  the  library." 

"Do  you  take  books  from  the  library  regularly?" 

"Sometimes,"  I  replied. 

"What  did  you  say  the  book  was?"  asked  Miss 
Margaret. 

"'Fors  Clavigera.'" 

"What?"  from  Miss  Eleanor. 


ii2  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"'Fors  Clavigera,'  by  Mr.  Ruskin. " 

"  What's  that  ?  I  never  heard  of  it  before  ! "  said 
Miss  Eleanor. 

"  Do  you  read  it  ?  Do  you  understand  it  ?"  Miss 
Margaret  wanted  to  know. 

"It's  lectures  to  the  working  people  of  Great 
Britain  about  different  kinds  of  work  and  how  to 
do  it.  I  have  read  and  understand  some  of  it. " 

"Well!"  and  they  looked  at  each  other  in 
amaze. 

"You're  the  first  girl  in  this  house  who  ever  read 
Ruskin!"  exclaimed  Miss  Margaret.  "You're  the 
first  girl  I  ever  knew  or  heard  of  who  read  Ruskin. 
Better  not  waste  your  time  on  it.  It  can't  do  you 
any  good.  It'll  only  make  you  discontented  with 
your  lot,  Ruskin  is  so  impractical  and  visionary  !" 

"  I  haven't  found  anything  like  that  yet.  It's  all 
about  doing  your  work  well.  He  says  people  ought 
to  work  more  with  their  hands  and  make  only  things 
that  are  useful, "  I  corrected. 

"More  sensible  than  I  would  have  believed," 
murmured  Miss  Margaret. 

I  wonder  whether  I  could  have  finished  the  ironing 
that  last  Tuesday,  which  was  also  my  last  whole  day 
at  the  Wetherlys'.  I  strived  for  that  end  every 
week. 

"  I  am  really  sorry  to  break  up  this  wild  enthusi- 
asm over  the  ironing,"  said  Miss  Eleanor  after 
lunch,  "but  would  you  mind  sitting  two  or  three 
hours  with  Miss  Prudence" — who  was  not  so  well 
as  usual — "so  Miss  Margaret  and  I  can  go  out 
together?  It's  likely  to  be  our  last  chance  for  a 
long  while.  I'll  finish  the  ironing  this  evening,  or 
sometime. " 


SPINSTERS  THREE  113 

I  vetoed  the  latter  part  of  the  proposition,  but  I 
sat  with  Miss  Prudence. 

Miss  Margaret  was  no  sooner  at  home  again  than 
there  came  a  telegram  that  company  was  coming, 
and  in  time  for  dinner.  Dinner  was  late,  of  course, 
but  it  was  not  underdone.  I  rejoice  over  that  even 
yet.  In  the  evening  I  ironed.  The  next  morning 
I  ironed ;  and  I  got  lunch. 

"Would  you  mind  staying  to  get  lunch  for  us?" 
asked  Miss  Eleanor. 

I  wouldn't  have  minded  staying  as  long  as  the 
company  did  had  anybody  suggested  it.  I  didn't 
like  to  speak  of  it  myself,  since  the  Wetherlys  and 
not  I  had  finally  set  the  date  of  my  going.  The 
company  was  a  sister  and  perhaps  the  matter  was  not 
of  moment. 

I  chose  also  to  clean  the  front  halls  and  my  own 
little  room.  My  room  had  fallen  sadly  from  the 
pleasant  state  in  which  I  had  found  it.  I  had  been 
too  ambitionless  to  do  actual  cleaning  there  as  often 
as  I  had  wished  it  done.  Then  I  washed  the  lunch 
dishes,  tidied  the  kitchen,  and  was  through.  Miss 
Eleanor  had  said  that  I  needn't  finish  the  ironing, 
or  do  any  kitchen-work  except  the  getting  of  lunch, 
but  I  wanted  to. 

Maybe,  if  that  had  been  the  plan,  I  could  have 
stayed  and  worked  on,  growing  seasoned  meanwhile, 
though  the  heated  term  was  beginning.  The 
Wether ly  kitchen  was  cool  without  the  range  fire. 
My  hands  might  have  toughened  in  the  service, 
though  they  were  troublesome  enough,  being  abso- 
lutely useless  in  the  mornings,  from  lameness  and 
numbness,  until  held  awhile  in  cold  water  and 
limbered  up.  The  third  and  fourth  fingers  of  both 


ii4  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

hands  had  begun  to  spring  out  of  joint  while  I  slept ; 
a  trick  not  wholly  forgotten  after  two  weeks. 

But  it  was  better  to  go.  Being  in  relaxation  at 
the  end  of  the  ordeal — for  it  was  an  ordeal,  though 
a  pleasant  one — I  find  rest  very  agreeable.  True 
to  the  purpose  confided  to  Miss  Margaret,  I  am 
"  a-visiting. " 

It  is  my  vacation.  Nobody  practises  French 
conversations  on  me  now.  I  do  not  stand  any  more 
at  a  work-table  and  look  up  to  see- 
But  why  should  I  write  it  ?  Of  a  truth,  though,  I 
think  often  of  those  gracious  ladies,  fondly  and 
regretfully.  If  they  engaged  the  one  girl  I  was  able 
to  send,  I  hope  she  does  well  for  them.  If  they  did 
not  engage  her,  I  hope  they  have  a  better.  When- 
ever I  go  back  to  the  city,  if  the  Wetherlys  be  without 
satisfactory  help  I  shall  be  welcome  there — if  I  wish 
or  decide  to  live  out  again.  Miss  Margaret  and  her 
sister  have  said  it.  Nor  do  I  know  that  such  an 
event  is  so  unlikely  as  it  might  seem  to  some  people. 
With  the  Wetherlys  my  objections  to  the  service 
would  not  be  so  stubborn  as  to  be  impossible  of 
adjustment.  Office  life  is  only  half  a  life,  if  indeed 
the  fraction  be  so  great.  And — 

The  charm  of  the  Wetherly  sisters  is  great. 


CHAPTER  VI 
DEGENERATE  ISRAEL 


I  DID  not  know  her  nationality  when  I  first  saw 
her,  though  I  wondered  afterward  how  I  could  have 
been  so  blind;  it  was  as  evident  as  the  nose  on  her 
face,  to  use  an  old  expression. 

It  was  a  warm  September  morning  when  I  first 
knocked  at  her  gates.  A  severe-visaged  maid 
opened  to  me  and  I  went  in,  followed  closely  by 
the  too  lightly  brushed  sister  applicant  who  had 
waited  on  the  corner  above  for  nine  o'clock  to  strike. 
We  stood  together  just  inside  the  door,  a  mute 
encouragement  to  each  other.  We  had  a  common 
bond. 

It  was  not  a  long  wait,  fortunately,  though  it  was 
an  anxious  one  enough.  Something  inside  me  was 
thumping  tremendously,  for  I  was  again  in  truth 
what  I  was  pretending:  a  modest  country  girl, 
anxious  for  work,  yet  awed  by  something  in  the 
atmosphere  which  was  strange  and  new. 

Quite  in  keeping  with  its  setting  seemed  the  jewel 
of  that  box  as  she  came  down  the  stairs  toward  us, 
tall  and  dignified  in  her  long  full  robe  of  lavender 
crape  which  hung  straight  from  the  shoulders, 
showing  a  soft  white  cambric  undergown  with 
dainty  trimmings.  It  was  negligee  distingue,  and 

"5 


n6  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

if  not  really  foreign,  haunt ingly  un-American 
beyond  all  my  previous  experience.  The  girl  beside 
me  caught  her  breath.  The  waiting  menials  were 
both  impressed. 

When  the  presence  spoke  it  was  to  give  us  a  good- 
morning  in  a  subdued  but  impressive  contralto; 
and  quite  as  though  she  had  not  already  decided 
between  us  while  coming  down  the  stairs — indeed, 
as  if  the  matter  before  her  was  unworthy  of  her 
faintest  personal  interest. 

"Did  you  come  together?"  she  asked  next,  really 
giving  me  her  attention,  though  politely  appearing 
to  divide  it. 

"  Yes'm,  we  came  in  together,"  we  both  answered 
in  concert. 

She  waited  an  instant  before  her  impressive 
repetition.  "Do  you  come  together?  Are  you 
together?" 

"  No'm;  we're  not  together — we  came  separately," 
I  replied,  catching  her  drift;  while  the  other  girl, 
clasping  a  worn  brown  pocketbook  to  her  belt  with 
both  hands,  murmured  inarticulately. 

"You  come  with  me,"  she  commanded  with  the 
sudden  vigour  of  one  high  in  authority  who  had 
stooped  and  in  the  stooping  had  done  me  a  signal 
favour.  Then,  "I  will  see  you  next,"  she  said  to 
the  other  girl,  and,  turning  majestically,  led  the  way 
to  the  dining-room  at  the  end  of  the  hall. 

She  closed  the  door  and  the  interview  proceeded. 
It  was  portentous. 

"  I  want  a  chambermaid  and  waitress."  She  had 
assumed  a  semiconfidential  air. 

"Yes'm." 

"Do  you  know  how  to  work?" 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  117 

"Yes'm." 

"  Where  have  you  lived?'* 

11  With  Mrs.  Barnes,  in  Freeland,  New  Jersey." 
(This  town  is  too  small  to  appear  on  the  map.) 

"What  did  you  do?" 

"General  work." 

"Everything?" 

"Yes'm." 

"How  long  were  you  there?" 

' '  I  went  last  January  and  came  away  this  week 
Monday." 

This  statement  can  be  recommended  for  nothing 
but  its  literal  truth. 

My  interlocutor  drew  her  own  inferences,  how- 
ever, and  counted  off  the  months  on  her  fingers. 
"You  have  no  city  reference,  then?" 

I  gave  her  the  one  written  for  me  that  morning 
by  Mrs.  Barnes's  sister  resident  in  the  city — yea,  in 
the  very  block  above — for  nine  months  in  the  year. 
It  characterized  me  quite  as  satisfactorily  as  those 
others  I  had  written  for  myself,  and  being  aimed 
from  such  short  range  brought  its  mark  speedily 
down. 

"Sit  in  that  chair,"  she  said,  pointing  to  one  by 
the  window. 

I  sat  demurely  and  folded  my  hands  while  she 
drew  a  chair  opposite  me  and  went  on: 

" Do  you  know  how  to  wash  and  iron?  Can  you 
do  chamber-work,  make  beds,  sweep  and  dust  ?  Do 
you  understand  how  to  clean  silver?  When  you 
clean  a  room  do  you  dig  out  the  corners  well?  Do 
your  rooms  stay  clean  after  you  have  been  over 
them?  Some  girls  clean,  and  then  the  room  gets 
untidy  right  away  again — it  doesn't  stay  clean. 


n8  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Are  you  nice  and  clean  yourself  about  the  house  ? 
Do  you  wash  yourself  often?  There's  such  a  dif- 
ference in  girls  about  this,"  she  explained,  while  I 
did  my  best  to  recover  unobserved. 

Could  she,  in  any  case,  have  expected  to  hear  from 
any  girl  a  confession  of  untidy  personal  habits  ?  My 
impulse  was  to  rise  that  minute  and  leave  her. 

"  There  isn't  so  much  to  do  here  after  the  house 
is  in  order,"  she  observed.  "  We  are  a  small  family 
and  I  keep  two  girls — a  cook  besides  yourself — a 
second  girl.  Then  we  are  away  part  of  the  time; 
my  daughter  and  I  visit  a  good  deal  in  New  York." 

The  name  of  the  city  as  pronounced  suggested 
splendour  undreamed  of. 

"What  I  need  most,"  she  went  on,  "is  some  one 
I  can  depend  upon;  some  one  I  can  leave  in  the 
house. 

"We  have  just  come  back  to  the  city  for  the 
winter,"  she  explained,  as  she  saw  that  I  was 
noting  the  cheese-cloth  over  everything  in  the  room 
save  the  tables  and  chairs.  "We  always  go  away 
for  the  hot  weather,  and  we  aren't  settled  yet.  It 
will  look  very  different  here  when  the  rug  is  down 
and  the  curtains  up;  these  coverings  come  down, 
too." 

A  canny  Scotchman  would  have  called  hers  "a 
pridefu'  manner." 

"Why,  that  girl  is  still  waiting!"  she  said,  rising 
hastily  after  a  pause.  "I  forgot  all  about  her. 
Excuse  me  while  I  send  her  away.  There's  no  use 
at  all  in  her  waiting,"  she  added,  more  as  if  to 
herself,  and  she  failed  to  close  the  door  behind  her. 

"Now,"  she  said  briskly  to  the  girl  in  the  hall, 
"where  have  you  lived ?  How  long  were  you  there ? 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  119 

Are  you  a  good  waitress?  What  is  your  name? 
Where  are  you  living?  Yes,  I'll  just  note  this. 
I'll  not  ask  you  to  wait  longer  this  morning,  as  I 
think  I'm  already  suited;  but  if  I  find  that  I  need 
you,  I'll  send." 

The  girl's  eager  voice  proclaimed  her  as  yet  too 
ingenuous;  she  was  shown  out,  still  protesting  her 
fitness,  her  experience  and  her  hopes  with  a  freedom 
I  would  not  have  dared.  Could  she  but  have 
listened  a  little  bit  ahead,  poor  thing  !  Perhaps  she 
had  just  come  from  a  Mrs.  Kinderlieber  and  had 
literally  no  chance  to  make  herself  tidy. 

"Wi — p — iff!"  exclaimed  the  matron,  with  un- 
necessary vigour,  her  patrician  (?)  nose  high  in 
the  air.  "I  had  to  air  out  after  her.  Those 

creatures!  Some  of  them  smell  enough "  But 

words  and  inflections  were  weak  before  the  strength 
of  her  disgust.  "I  wouldn't  engage  her  if  I  was 
without  a  girl  for  a  month !" 

Evidently  some  gratitude  was  due  the  unsuspected 
dullness  of  my  olfactory  centres.  I  had  detected 
the  single  odour  of  stale  doughnuts,  and  though  that 
can  never  be  to  me  a  pleasurable  sensation,  the 
offense  was  slight. 

She  of  the  keen  sensibilities  closed  the  hall  door 
and  then  opened  it  again. 

"Emilie !  Emilie !"  she  called,  first  with  a  rising 
and  then  with  a  falling  inflection;  and  the 
full  tone  came  so  unexpectedly  harsh  that 
I  jumped.  "  Emilie !  Come  down,  dear.  I  want 
you !" 

There  was  silence  between  us  until  Miss  Emilie 
appeared.  Miss  Emilie  perched  on  the  arm  of  her 
mother's  chair  and  with  the  distance  of  a  lofty 


120  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

condescension  was  made  known  to  me  as  "My 
daughter,  Miss  Scharff." 

A  rarely  beautiful  daughter  Miss  Scharff  was,  too. 
I  never  saw  her  when  her  bearing  was  not  as  sweet 
and  dignified  as  her  bonny  face.  Now  she  bent  her 
head  in  pleasing  deference  to  her  mother's  measured 
confidence. 

"Now  here,  Emilie,  is,  .1  think,  a  girl  who  will 
answer  our  purpose  very  well.  She  has  been  used 
to  general  work  in  the  country,  up  in  New  Jersey." 

Here  the  cook  came  through  the  room  to  answer 
the  doorbell. 

"If  that  is  another  girl,  Frieda,  say  that  I  am 
already  suited,"  said  Mrs.  Scharff,  with  a  haughty 
impatience  that  would  have  adorned  a  duchess 
frivolously  interrupted  while  planning  intrigues  of 
state. 

"She  has  been  used  to  general  work  in  the  coun- 
try," Mrs.  Scharff  resumed,  "is  without  experience 
in  the  city,"  she  paused  an  instant  to  give  her 
daughter  a  significant  look,  "and  brings  this  very 
good  reference  from  a  lady  in  the  next  block,  under 
whose  care  she  has  been  the  two  or  three  days  she  has 
been  in  the  city." 

"Very  well,  mother,"  assented  Miss  Scharff, 
dutifully  taking  the  proffered  paper.  "Have  you 
said  anything  about  wearing  the  cap?"  she  softly 
suggested. 

"Not  yet,"  was  the  answer  quite  as  softly  given. 
"I  wanted  to  find  out  first  whether  we  want  her. 
Then  turning  to  me  with  a  double  tinge  of  conde- 
scension, "Do  you  object  to  wearing  the  cap — just  a 
little  square  piece  of  muslin  with  lace  around  it  and 
a  bow?"  her  hand  moving  erratically  in  the  air  to 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  121 

illustrate.  "I  require  my  girls  to  wear  mornings 
at  their  work  light  gingham  dresses,  shirt-waists 
and  skirts,  with  white  collar  and  cuffs  and  white 
aprons;  for  evening,  they  wear  black  with  white 
collar  and  cuffs,  and  white  aprons  which  I  furnish; 
and  if  I  have  company  they  wear  the  cap.  You 
furnish  your  own  working-aprons,  the  collars  and 
cuffs;  the  dresses,  of  course,  you  will  have." 

"I  have  no  black  dress,"  I  suggested,  after  con- 
sideration. "I've  been  wearing  light  gingham." 

Mrs.  Scharff  shook  her  head  with  a  deprecatory 
smile.  "No,  you  must  wear  black  in  the  evening. 
My  girls  always  wear  black  in  the  evening.  Get  a 
shirt-waist,"  she  said  lightly,  when  I  was  still 
silent;  "that  will  do  with  any  kind  of  a  black  skirt. 

"Oh,  are  you  a  good  waitress?"  Mrs.  Scharff 
asked  next,  being  reminded  by  Miss  Emilie,  whose 
mind  was  plainly  to  the  ornamentals. 

"I  never  did  just  waiting,"  I  said  haltingly; 
"but  I  could  do  it,  if  I  knew  what  you  wanted 
done." 

"You  could  do  what  you  were  told,"  repeated 
Mrs.  Scharff  with  apparent  sympathy.  "Yes;  and 
what  is—  You're  a— 

"Protestant,"  I  answered. 

"Yes.     Now,  when  can  you  come?" 

"To-morrow  morning." 

"We  would  like  to  have  you  for  dinner  to-night — 
to  wait  on  the  table,"  she  explained.  "If  you  are 
so  near,  just  waiting  in  a  boarding-house  until  you 
get  a  place." 

"I  would  rather  not  come  before  to-morrow 
morning,"  I  insisted. 

"Very   well,"    she   said   resignedly,    and   we   all 


122  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

arose.  "Then  you'll  come  to-morrow.  You'll  not 
fail  me?"  she  questioned  with  an  anxiety  which  I 
felt  to  be  no  compliment.  "You'll  consider  this  an 
engagement,"  she  repeated  more  than  once,  after  I 
had  already  given  her  assurance. 

She  was  not  certain  that  one  person  could  make 
a  bargain  after  all.  Her  suspicion  of  my  given  word 
irritated  me,  though  I  gave  it  again  and  again.  I 
promised  also  to  do  her  the  favour  of  thanking  Miss 

S for  sending  her  "such  a  nice  girl."     She  smiled 

a  condescending  dismissal,  and  the  door  closed 
behind  me. 


II 


IF  it  be  unqualifiedly  true — what  the  copy-book 
says,  that  "Busy  hands  make  a  happy  heart,"  then 
the  1 2th  of  September  should  ever  stand  out  to 
me  as  the  first  of  many  days,  full  to  spilling  over 
with  joy  and  the  happiest  time  of  my  life.  But 
copy-book  truisms  can  be  taken  only  relatively, 
after  all;  and  those  five  or  six  weeks  in  the  early 
fall  do  mean  to  me — but  it  is  better  that  the  days 
should  tell  their  own  story. 

Deliberately  and  generously  without  judgment, 
I  went  to  Mrs.  Scharff  full  of  high  resolve  to  do 
every  task  cheerfully,  and  as  speedily  and  as  well 
as  I  could;  ready  to  efface  myself  for  the  pride  and 
comfort  of  so  aristocratic  a  personage;  indeed, 
much  awed  and  a  little  proud  to  be  a  retainer  behind 
such  gleaming  marble  steps  and  so  bright  a  bell- 
handle.  Not  unlike,  I  suppose,  the  spirit  of  loyal 
vassalage  hundreds  of  years  ago;  and  even  to-day 
akin,  perhaps,  to  that  which  swells  the  apron -bib  and 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  123 

lifts  the  chin  of  the  freshly  starched,  foreign-tongued 
person  who  chances  now  and  then  to  open  a  Spruce 
Street  front  door  to  the  view  of  an  ordinary  plodding 
pedestrian. 

After  Mrs.  Scharff  was  able  to  give  me  her  atten- 
tion, which  was  exactly  twenty  minutes  after  I 
arrived,  opportunities  for  exercise  in  the  first  part 
of  my  resolve  were  rarely  lacking.  Mrs.  Scharff 
attentive  was  like  a  valiant  old  pussy,  a  mighty 
hunter  among  her  kind,  ever  closely  watchful  and 
not  to  be  diverted.  Not  that  I  began  by  looking  for 
her  diversion.  My  conscience  was  clear;  I  had  no 
old  sins  to  hide  and  no  new  ones  planned. 

"Oh,  you  came,  did  you?"  was  the  first  obser- 
vation of  my  new  mistress,  still  impressive  in  her 
robes  of  yesterday.  "Have  you  had  your  break- 
fast?" 

"Yes'm,"  I  replied,  feeling  decidedly  ill  at  ease, 
for  Mrs.  Scharfl  seemed  annoyed  or  nervous.  I 
had  been  happier,  perhaps,  to  have  filled  her  expecta- 
tion and  looked  for  another  place. 

"Frieda,  bring  me  the  little  new  bucket,"  she 
demanded  of  the  cook,  after  her  morning  interview 
with  the  market-men. 

Frieda  flew  to  get  it.  Then,  by  the  combined 
effort  of  us  three,  several  cloths  and  dusters,  the 
silver-polish,  the  sand-soap,  the  dust-pan  and  whisk 
were  collected  from  their  various  places. 

Mrs.  Scharff  took  the  bucket.  "Here,  Eliza," 
she  said,  passing  it  to  me,  "put  some  warm  water  in 
this." 

I  took  it  to  the  "outside  kitchen,"  which  for 
convenience  was  not  unlike  a  good  big  kitchen  in  a 
flat. 


124  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

''Which  of  these  is  the  hot  water?"  I  asked, 
taking  my  stand  at  the  sink  before  the  three  shining 
faucets. 

But  Frieda  was  busy  at  her  table  opposite,  with 
her  back  to  me,  and  she  only  looked  around. 

I  was  rebuffed ;  but  if  authority  was  deaf,  I  could 
still  experiment. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  demanded  Mrs.  Scharff, 
appearing  in  the  doorway.  "Why  don't  you  draw 
the  water?" 

"I  haven't  yet  found  which  is  the  hot  water 
faucet,"  I  returned  nonchalantly,  making  my  second 
trial. 

"Well,  why  don't  you  ask  Frieda?"  impatiently. 
"That  is  what  she  is  here  for,  to  tell  you  things  you 
don't  know." 

"I  did  ask  her,"  I  exclaimed  in  self -justification, 
"but  I  guess  she  didn't  hear." 

"Didn't  she  answer  you?"  queried  my  new  mis- 
tress, with  the  vigorous  surprise  of  authority 
defied. 

"No;  I  think  she  didn't  hear,"  I  apologized, 
shrinking  from  a  possible  scene. 

But  I  need  not  have  worried.  The  "Tell  Eliza 
which  is  the  hot  water  spigot"  came  out  as  mild  as 
a  June  morning.  And  Frieda  came  promptly  and 
turned  the  right  spigot  without  a  word. 

"You  must  tell  Eliza  where  things  are  and  show 
her  what  she  doesn't  know,  Frieda,  until  she  gets 
accustomed  to  the  work  and  our  ways,"  reproved 
Mrs.  Scharff. 

Frieda,  who  was  then  busily  working  with  her 
back  toward  us,  muttered  unintelligibly. 

"  What  did  you  say,  Frieda  ? "  queried  her  mistress. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  125 

But  Frieda  held  her  peace.  My  first  experience 
as  one  of  two  promised  to  be  squally.  But  it  was 
no  time  for  foreboding. 

1  'Here,  don't  set  that  down  without  wiping  the 
outside  !"  Mrs.  Scharff  called  sharply  as  I  lifted  the 
bucket  from  the  sink.  "Always  wipe  the  outside 
of  everything ;  never  take  anything  out  of  the  kitchen 
without  wiping  the  outside.  I  can't  have  water 
dripping  all  over  the  house  !" 

I  jumped,  set  the  pail  back  into  the  sink,  and 
looked  helplessly  around  for  a  cloth. 

"Frieda,  get  Eliza  a  cloth  for  the  outside  of  this 
bucket,"  demanded  Mrs.  Scharff. 

Frieda  looked  distractedly  around  her  immaculate 
kitchen. 

— ,"  she  said,  pointing  to  a  table  in 
the  "inside  kitchen"  or  "girl's  dining-room,"  where 
Mrs.  Scharff  had  dropped  our  collection.  I  did 
not  understand  a  word.  The  cook  would  have 
darted  past  me,  but  Mrs.  Scharff  prevented,  con- 
descendingly. 

"Never  mind,  Frieda;  I'll  get  it,"  she  said  sooth- 
ingly. She  actually  did  bring  me  a  cloth  from  the 
table. 

"Now,  you  come  with  me.  Be  careful  not  to 
fall,"  she  warned,  with  a  cool  impersonal  disinterest, 
as  I  followed  her  up  the  dark  winding  back  stairs 
to  the  second  floor. 

Immediately  I  miscalculated  and  stepped  on  my 
dress,  and — well,  it  was  all  right.  I  saved  my 
equilibrium,  which  was  lucky  for  the  several  cloths 
and  dusters,  silver -polish,  sand-soap,  dust-pan, 
whisk  and  bucket  of  warm  water,  to  say  nothing  of 
my  lady's  nerves. 


126  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"  You  can  set  your  bucket  down  here  in  the  hall, 
as  you  won't  need  it  in  the  bathroom — at  least,  not 
now,"  said  Mrs.  Scharff,  when  I  had  achieved  the 
top  stair  in  safety. 

I  set  it  down,  vaguely  wondering  as  to  the  relative 
value  of  an  untried  chambermaid  and  a  long- 
acceptable  cook. 

"Now  in  here,"  said  Mrs.  Scharff,  surveying  the 
different  appointments  of  the  bathroom,  "your  work 
every  morning  is  what  I  tell  you  now." 

I  was  taken,  little  by  little,  through  the  scrubbing 
of  the  bathtub,  the  dusting  of  the  woodwork,  the 
polishing  of  the  black  walnut,  the  wiping  up  of  the 
floor,  and  all  the  rest  covered  by  the  verb  "to  do." 

I  felt  that  it  was  going  to  be  a  very  solemn  matter 
"to  do"  the  bathroom,  though  the  ceremony  would 
call  for  no  special  intelligence.  Indeed,  what  few 
brains  I  had  promised  to  be  in  the  way.  I  dis- 
missed them  for  a  nap. 

"All  these  things  you  do  every  morning  after 
you  have  done  my  room.  That  is  always  done  the 
first  thing  after  breakfast.  We  will  go  there  now. 
Bring  your  bucket  and  other  things;  you  will  need 
them  all."  And  Mrs.  Scharff 's  preparatory  lecture 
on  the  bathroom  was  closed. 

The  change  to  her  room  was  welcome,  for  there 
I  began  to  work;  and  physical  activity  is  always  a 
relief  after  the  mental  strain  of  prolonged  concen- 
tration. My  attentiveness  must  have  won  favour 
for  me,  however,  for  with  the  question,  "Do  you 
know  how  to  make  a  bed?"  Mrs.  Scharff  seemed 
to  drop  something  of  her  dictatorial  air  and  be 
almost  friendly. 

I  answered  as  usual,  "Yes'm." 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  127 

"Well,  I  will  show  you  how  I  like  mine  made," 
and  she  smiled  so  pleasantly  that  the  transition 
seemed  complete,  and  for  a  very  little  I  was  quite 
at  ease. 

But  the  making  of  her  bed  was  also  a  serious 
matter,  for  as  she  stood  on  one  side  to  direct  and 
help  draw  up  the  covers,  her  eyes  kept  traveling 
over  to  note  my  every  move.  I  was  glad  when  I 
could  set  my  own  pace  over  Mr.  ScharfFs  single 
bed,  though  I  did  get  unpleasantly  warm,  trotting 
around  from  one  side  to  the  other,  smoothing  out 
and  tucking  in.  But  that  was  because  I  was  started 
at  it  with,  "It's  getting  late;  you'd  better  hurry  or 
you  won't  get  through, ' '  and  because  I  was  skep- 
tically asked  the  second  time  if  I  had  turned  the 
mattress — a  distinctly  audible  operation  which  she 
should  have  heard;  and  because  when  she  came 
over  to  inspect,  my  well-made  bed  must  be  torn 
almost  to  pieces  again  that  the  spread  which  was 
tucked  in  might  hang  over  on  both  sides  to  hide 
a  worn  place  in  the  carpet.  The  extra  work  I  did 
not  mind,  but  I  did  mind  that  Mrs.  Scharfl  did  not 
think  it  worth  while  to  regret  that  she  should  have 
omitted  to  tell  me  before,  on  such  an  oppressively 
hot  morning.  There  was  some  satisfaction,  how- 
ever, in  trying  to  look  as  stolid  as  "old  five  wits" 
when  she  would  have  learned  from  my  face  whether 
I  resented  the  needless  labour. 

Then  I  began  in  the  northwest  corner  of  her  dusty 
carpet,  as  directed,  and  brushed  and  brushed,  with 
dust-pan  and  whisk,  in  all  the  corners  and  under  all 
things  movable,  while  she  stood  by  watching  closely 
as  I  hitched  along  from  place  to  place. 

But  over  the  dusting,  which  was  the  occasion  of 


128  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

another  lesson  and  therefore  a  matter  of  time,  I 
cooled  off  quite  a  little.  Mrs.  Scharff  took  a  duster 
and  with  her  own  hands  showed  me  how  to  manage 
the  bureau  and  the  -top  of  her  desk.  It  was  wisely 
thought.  Undirected,  I  must  ever  have  been 
inadequate  to  the  task;  for  with  the  disorderly 
multitude  of  gimcracks  on  her  bureau,  however 
would  I  have  known  what  to  take  off  first?  And 
having  taken  off  that  galaxy  of  family  likenesses 
from  her  desk,  however  could  I  have  got  them 
back  again?  The  furniture  she  inspected  after 
me. 

Lunch  'time  came  before  I  was  through,  and  as 
soon  as  the  bell  rang  Mrs.  Scharff  waylaid  Miss 
Emilie  in  the  hall  for  a  consultation.  Presently 
Mrs.  Scharff  came  sailing  back  to  ask,  "What  are 
you  doing  now,  Eliza?" 

Obviously  I  was  scrubbing  the  marble  of  her 
wash-stand,  but  I  answered  as  though  she  really  had 
been  blind. 

She  waited  a  moment  irresolute. 

"Shall  I  wait  until  after  lunch  to  finish?"  I  sug- 
gested innocently. 

"Oh,  no — no,  finish  now,"  she  objected  hurriedly, 
quite  as  if  her  thoughts  had  been  upon  lunar  phases 
or  some  equally  remote  matter;  "and  when  you  are 
through  you  may  go  down.  I  think  Frieda  will 
have  your  lunch  ready." 

Her  retreating  footsteps  seemed  to  drag  heavy 
weights  from  off  my  breathing  apparatus.  I  had 
never  before  been  so  openly  and  suspiciously 
watched.  It  made  me  nervous. 

But  Mrs.  Scharff  must  have  had  trouble  of  another 
sort.  None  but  an  ostrich  could  have  taken  such 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  129 

a  quick  lunch  and  not  known  the  pangs  of  indiges- 
tion. She  went  straight  to  her  treasures  as  soon  as 
she  came  into  the  room  again.  "Did  you  move  the 
glasses  I  left  on  the  bureau,  while  I  was  at  lunch, 
Eliza?" 

"No'm,"  I  answered,  and  stooped  as  I  spoke  to 
replace  a  soap-dish  and  two  bottles  upon  the  now 
finished  wash-stand. 

''I  wonder  where  they  are,"  she  said.  "I  left 
them  here." 

I  put  back  two  more  bottles  and  a  finger-bowl 
and  said  nothing. 

"Have  you  seen  them,  Eliza?" 

"No'm;  I  have  not  seen  them,"  I  answered  evenly, 
and  I  put  back  another  soap-dish  and  a  match- 
receiver. 

"I  thought  I  left  them  here  when  I  went  to  lunch," 
she  said,  peering  about  the  floor. 

"Then  they  are  there  now,"  I  returned,  starting 
across  the  room  to  help  look  for  them. 

"No,  don't  bother  to  come;  I  shall  find  them,  I 
guess.  Have  you  been  over  to  this  side  of  the 
room  at  all,  Eliza" 

"No'm."  I  put  back  a  box  of  matches,  and  the 
morning  work  in  her  room  was  done.  Almost 
immediately  the  missing  glasses  were  discovered 
on  her  desk,  and  I  went  down  to  my  lunch 
wondering  uncomfortably  why  she  should  trouble 
to  inquire  of  my  tongue  if  she  could  not  trust  my 
fingers. 

Servants'  mess,  with  apologies  to  the  military, 
was  presided  over  by  Frieda.  So  wholesome  was 
my  respect  for  that  person  since  the  episode  of  the 
morning  that  I  moved  toward  a  closer  acquaintance 


1 30  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

reluctantly  enough.  I  opened  the  mess-room  door 
rather  timidly. 

"  You  come  fur  lunch  ? "  she  asked,  with  a  strange 
foreign  accent.  "She  send  you  down?" 

"Yes,"  I  assented.     "Can  I  help  you  with  it?" 

"  No,  vait ;  all  iss  ready.  You  take  chair  fur  little 
bit  rest;  I  bring  in."  She  pointed  to  the  chair 
nearest  to  me  and  I  dropped  into  it. 

"Help  self,"  she  said,  coming  back  with  various 
dishes  which  she  put  helter-skelter  on  the  table 
before  me,  whence  the  choice  of  my  descriptive 
term.  "Was  you  name?  Lizy?  Take  chops, 
Lizy?" 

"  Yes,  in  a  minute,"  I  said,  continuing  in  vacant 
stare  at  the  table  before  me.  But  I  didn't  really 
care  whether  I  ever  ate  again.  It  was  easier  to 
stay  hungry  than  to  move  a  single  muscle.  I  was 
so  tired ! 

"Vhy  you  no  eat?  You  no  like  chop?  You 
muss  essen  so  you  feel  better.  Soon  she  call  fur  you 
upstairs,  and  you  can  no  vork  venn  you  no  eat," 
said  Frieda  sensibly.  "Here  iss  chicken  from  yes- 
terday. I  can  make  warm  in  a  minute. " 

"Oh,  no,"  I  answered,  "everything  is  all  right, 
only  I'm  too  tired  and  hot  now. 

"You  vork  much  dies  mornin'?"  Frieda  asked, 
looking  at  me  now  with  friendly  directness. 

"Her  room,"  said  I  laconically,  crossing  my  arms 
on  the  table  before  me. 

"You  sweep  it  all?" 

"  Brushed  it  up  with  a  little  brush  and  dust -pan," 
I  answered  with  suitable  explanatory  gestures, 
which  were  comprehended  with  a  grin. 

"She  vork  round  mil  you  alles?" 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  131 

I  nodded. 

"  Das  iss  gut,"  the  cook  murmured  half  to  herself. 
She  was  making  up  her  mind,  I  suspect,  whether  I 
was  likely  to  stay.  "  Big  room.  You  like  place  ?" 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders,  the  only  French  expres- 
sion I  have  found  useful  for  general  conversation. 
"I  don't  know  yet,"  I  added,  seeing  that  she  did 
not  understand.  "Too  soon  to  tell." 

That  reply  was  received  favourably,  too.  Frieda 
was  getting  interested. 

"  You  like  Mrs.  Scharff  ?"  she  went  on. 

"I've  seen  people  I  liked  better,  though  she  was 
very  decent  to  me  this  morning.  She  was  afraid 
I'd  steal  her  things  if  she  left  me  in  her  room  while 
she  came  down  to  lunch,"  I  added  in  disgust. 

"She  vas  down,"  said  Frieda  quickly. 

"Oh,  yes;  she  and  Miss  Emilie  talked  it  over  out 
in  the  hall,  and  Miss  Emilie  said  Mrs.  Scharff  was 
foolish,  and  for  her  to  go  down,"  I  explained. 

"You  care?"  Frieda  looked  me  in  the  eyes 
earnestly. 

"Well,  since  I  don't  want  any  of  her  things,  it 
isn't  very  nice  to  have  her  think  I  do.  I'm  not  used 
to  it,"  I  answered. 

"I  know,  but  you  muss  no  mind,"  said  Frieda 
soothingly.  "She  nairvous  because  you  new  girl. 
She  always  so  mit  new  girl.  Wenn  you  know  you 
all  right,  you  muss  no  mind.  She  different  wenn  she 
know  you." 

I  hoped  so,  fervently:  but  Frieda  went  on  a  bit 
sheepishly : 

"  She  make  me  mad  dies  mornin',  too.  She  say  I 
hier  to  tell  you  was  you  do  !" 

"I  couldn't  help  that,"  I  insinuated. 


i32  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"No,  course.  But  she  know  I  no  hier  to  tell 
chambermaid.  Das  no  my  business,"  she  repeated 
vehemently. 

I  grinned. 

"  You're  here  to  cook,  aren't  you  ?  Your  business 
is  cook." 

"Cairtainly.  It  iss  no  chambermaid's  business 
to  tell  me,  und  es  iss  no  my  business  to  tell  chamber- 
maid. Wir  hier  to  do  our  vork;  me  cook,  you 
upstairs. 

"  I  busy  mit  my  pudding  fur  lunch  diese  morgen" 
Frieda  continued.  "  I  canno  stop  to  tell  tings  wenn 
she  hier  to  show  you.  Und  she  do  notting.  She 
can  tell  you  sheself .  I  hier  to  tell  chambermaid  ! ' ' 

(Oh  !  that  the  written  word  might  carry  something 
of  Frieda's  disdain !) 

But  Frieda  had  an  eye  to  the  cooling  viands,  and 
also  an  eye  to  the  clock.  "Essen  sie"  she  reminded 
me  again.  "Make  you  strong  and  fat,  so  you  can 
vork.  Take  chop,  take  all,  I  no  care — I  eat  chicken. 
Take  spring  bean,  sweet  'nd  sour.  You  like  spring 
bean?  Und  petaties.  Take  everything." 

It  was  toothsome,  the  lunch,  and  I  ate  not  at  all 
from  a  sense  of  duty.  I  ate  for  the  breakfast  I  had 
had  no  appetite  for,  though  it  was  a  favourite  one, 
ordered  that  morning  especially  for  me;  I  ate  to 
repair  the  strain  of  the  morning:  I  ate  for  strength 
for  the  afternoon. 

Hardly  had  I  finished  when  the  call  for  "Frieda ! 
Frieda  !"  filled  the  side  yard. 

It  was  Mrs.  Scharff  calling  from  her  back  sitting- 
room  window.  Frieda  ran  to  the  back  door,  and 
for  no  reason  at  all  my  heart  began  to  thump  half 
as  fast  again. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  133 

"  Frieda,  ist  Eliza  unten  f  Was  thun  sie  f  When 
she  is  through  her  lunch  tell  her  to  come  upstairs ;  I 
want  her." 

"Frieda  came  in  with  the  message,  grumbling 
something  about  "alle  time  vatch." 

"Sitzen  sie  I  Sit  down  !"  she  commanded  authori- 
tatively, for  I  had  risen  to  go  at  once.  "She  can 
vait.  Take  you  time,"  she  added  more  gently; 
"die  vork  vill  be  all  safe  wenn  you  get  upstairs. 
It  vill  no  do  itself." 

"But  she  wants  me  for  something  special,"  I 
argued.  "Because  she  said  to  me  when  I  came 
down,  'Come  up  again  when  you  have  finished/ ' 

Frieda  shook  her  head  in  vehement  negation. 

"She  no  vant  you  fur  someting  special;  I  know; 
just  for  afternoon  vork." 

Really  I  feared  to  go  lest  I  lose  my  new-found 
favour  with  the  cook.  I  sat  down  again  and  rounded 
out  my  nooning. 

It  was  the  wiser  way,  for  so,  when  I  did  go  upstairs 
again,  it  was  with  the  comforting  knowledge  that 
Frieda  and  I  understood  each  other,  tacitly  and 
otherwise. 

If  the  afternoon  was  less  trying  than  the  morning 
it  wasn't  because  I  did  less  work.  First  after  lunch 
I  "did"  Miss  Emilie's  room  by  myself. 

"I  have  just  sent  Eliza  up  to  your  room,  Emilie," 
significantly  observed  the  anxious  Mrs.  Scharfl. 

"Yes,  mother,"  dutifully  replied  her  daughter, 
who  stayed  serenely  where  she  was  and  let  me 
"do"  it,  a  consideration  for  which  I  remember,  her 
pleasantly  even  yet. 

"Eliza  !"  came  the  call  from  below  just  as  I  was 
finishing.  My  impatient  mistress  stood  in  the 


i34  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

doorway  opposite  the  stairs  as  I  came  down.  "Have 
you  nearly  finished  Miss  Emilie's  room?"  she  asked 
with  some  severity. 

"All  finished — everything?  Do  your  bathroom 
next,"  she  directed.  "Do  everything  just  as  I  told 
you  this  morning."  The  rebuke  implied  by  her 
tone  was  unmerited,  for  I  had  been  working  steadily 
and  with  all  comfortable  haste;  yet  the  implication 
was  a  spur  to  greater  effort — which  Mrs.  Scharff 
did  not  mind  interrupting. 

"Eliza  !"  came  from  the  front  room.  "I  want  you 
to  take  this  out  to  the  letter-box  for  me,"  she  said, 
when  I  had  taken  my  stand,  flunkey-like,  at  her 
elbow.  "Will  you?  You  know  where  it  is,  don't 
you?  On  the  corner  next  below;"  and  she  carefully 
stamped  a  handful  of  envelopes  and  gave  them  to 
me  with  the  parting  charge  to  "hurry  back  so  you 
can  get  at  your  work  again." 

The  bathroom  finished,  I  reported  in  the  front 
room  for  further  orders. 

She  thought  a  moment.  "  You  have  done  every- 
thing in  Miss  Emilie's  room  ?  and  in  the  bathroom  ? 
Have  you  done  your  dining-room  to-day?  Oh, 
well,  you  must  do  your  dining-room  every  day. 
Do  it  now."  She  would  have  dismissed  me  without 
a  direction. 

I  stood  a  minute  irresolute.  Depend  upon  my 
own  judgment?  How  presumptuous  the  thought, 
and  how  really  impossible !  For  already  mine  was 
a  dominated  spirit,  and  independence  of  any  sort 
a  fearsome  thing. 

"What  shall  I  do  to  the  dining-room?"  I  asked 
timidly.  Just  dust  and  wipe  up  the  floor?" 

"Why,  yes,  of  course,"  in  impatient  surprise. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  135 

About  five  minutes  later  she  paused  on  her  way 
to  the  kitchen  to  give  me  all  the  details  without 
which  I  had  hardly  known  how  to  begin. 

"Dust  in  all  the  corners,  good,"  was  the  motto 
she  gave  me,  but  before  I  could  apply  it  she  had 
gone  upstairs  again,  and  I  was  summoned  by  her 
bell.  It  was  another  batch  for  the  letter-box. 
Then  the  dusting  of  the  back  and  front  stairways 
and  halls  filled  up  the  time  until  half-past  four, 
when  Mrs.  Scharfl  rang  for  me  yet  again. 

"You'd  better  go  to  your  own  room,  now,  Eliza, 
and  get  ready  for  dinner,  which  is  at  half -past  six," 
she  said.  "Change  your  dress,  wash  all  up  clean 
and  make  yourself  tidy." 

The  emphasis  on  the  second  clause,  repeated 
again  at  the  end  with  a  feeble  attempt  at  an  occa- 
sional, off-hand  air,  might,  if  one  were  oversensitive, 
be  thought  objectionable. 

But  Mrs:  ScharfFs  advice  was  good  and  I  was  glad 
enough  to  take  it,  for  all  the  muscles  in  me  were 
aching  from  the  unusually  vigorous  exercise  of  the 
day;  and  I  was  red,  hot,  and  dusty  besides.  I  like 
to  think,  however,  that,  having  the  opportunity,  I 
should  have  had  wit  enough  to  follow  the  advice  if 
it  hadn't  been  given.  This  seems  like  an  Hibernian- 
ism,  but  I  will  let  it  pass,  out  of  respect  to  a  remote 
ancestor. 

One  hour  later,  cooled,  refreshed,  and  quite 
satisfied  with  the  effect  of  my  black  and  white — 
especially  with  the  bib  apron  which  I  had  never 
worn  before,  I  attended  upon  Frieda,  who  showed 
me  how  to  set  the  table  for  dinner.  The  nimble- 
ness  of  her  feet  could  be  matched  only  by  that  of 
her  tongue.  I  made  little  attempt  to  keep  up  with 


136  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

either,  studying  instead  the  finished  result,  putting 
crooked  things  straight,  and  doing  my  best  to  get 
the  lay  of  it  into  my  head. 

Hardly  had  I  succeeded  when  Miss  Emilie  came 
down  to  tell  me  how  to  wait  on  the  table.  She 
was  very  gracious,  and  appeared  to  assume  in  the 
telling  that  I  might  be  a  creature  of  some 
slight  intellect  though  I  had  never  been  a 
waitress. 

The  directions  were  simple.  As  she  said:  "It 
isn't  much,  but  we  like  to  have  it  done  just  that 
way,  quietly  and  quickly,  that  is,  without  delay. 
It  may  trouble  you  a  little  at  first,  but  you'll  soon 
see  how  it  goes,  I'm  sure. "  She  smiled  winningly 
and  I  felt  reassured. 

At  dinner  time  Mrs.  Scharff  came  bustling  out  all 
in  a  flutter,  as  is  the  way  with  anxious  housekeepers 
when  they  have  new  cooks.  She  gave  me  real 
stage-fright,  looking  at  me  as  a  wise  captain 
never  would  look  at  an  untried  pilot  before  a  dan- 
gerous channel;  and  everything  Miss  Emilie  had 
said  left  me,  and  the  little  self-possession  for  which 
I  had  all  the  afternoon  been  struggling  went,  too. 
In  fact,  I  lost  my  head. 

But  Frieda  started  me  in  with  the  soup-plates. 
"Put  before  missus,"  she  said. 

"And  what '11  I  do  then?"  I  gasped,  all  of  a 
panicky  flutter. 

"  Come  back  for  soup — something  to  put  in.  You 
can  no  pass  leer"  she  said  with  a  laugh. 

"The  "leer"  was  beyond  me.  In  my  distraught 
condition  I  was  equal  to  only  one  thought  at  a  time, 
and  that  must  be  in  English. 

"You  muss  no  let  vomen  make  you  nairvous," 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  137 

Frieda  added  soothingly.  "  You  do  al\  right.  It  iss 
netting  much." 

"  Go  back  for  soup  !  Go  back  for  soup  !"  I  said 
it  to  myself  all  the  way  into  the  dining-room,  as  if  it 
really  was  a  floating  oar  within  reach  of  a  drowning 
intelligence. 

The  soup,  when  I  did  get  it,  was  the  insignificant 
cause  of  much  distress.  The  tureen,  not  being  set 
squarely  on  its  plate,  rattled  all  the  way  in  like  a 
china  tomtom.  Mrs.  Scharff  squirmed  and  scowled 
to  time  and  said  agonizingly,  "Isn't  that  terrible !" 
to  Miss  Scharff,  who  was  intent  upon  the  upper 
right-hand  corner  of  the  opposite  door-casing. 

I  grew  very  hot  under  the  collar  and  self-conscious, 
and  at  every  step  prayed  for  a  miracle  to  stop  the 
noise.  But  the  hour  for  miracles  was  passed.  In 
a  normal  state  I  would  have  stopped  in  the  mess- 
room  for  a  readjustment  and  a  new  start.  But  not 
being  normally  stated,  the  phrase  "without  delay" 
had  me  in  absolute  possession.  I  stopped  not  to 
breathe.  Mrs.  Scharff  finally  received  my  burden 
with  gingerly  distress  appropriate  to  a  quantity  of 
dynamite,  and  I  retreated  in  haste  and  confusion, 
snatching  a  crumb  of  comfort  on  the  way  from 
Mr.  Scharff 's  little  homily  on  adjectives  and  nerves. 

If  the  tray  on  our  mess-table  had  not  held  a 
reminder,  I  might  never  have  gone  back  to  receive 
upon  it  the  cover  of  the  offending  dish.  I  had  quite 
forgotten  that  step,  anyway;  but  inspiration  came 
to  me,  and  after  an  instant's  perplexity  I  took  the 
hint  properly  and  carried  it  away.  For  the  rest,  I 
doubtless  made  the  mistake  of  removing  the  plates 
before  the  platter,  but  my  unreasonable  panic  sub- 
sided by  degrees,  and  with  Frieda's  help  I  got  through 


138  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

the  rest  of  the  meal  quite  like  a  rational  creature. 
Through  the  next  dinner,  also,  though  it  was  the 
eve  of  Rosh  Hoshana,  the  Hebrew  New  Year,  and 
the  occasion  of  a  fifth  and  extra  course:  a  fish, 
which  Frieda  had  prepared  early  in  the  day  with 
some  vexation  and  a  grumble  or  two,  and  decorated 
until  it  looked  like  a  coloured  illustration  in  an 
up-to-date  cook-book.  Nor  was  it  unappreciatively 
received. 

"Die  fish  war  gut,  Frieda,"  complimented  Mrs. 
ScharfT,  on  her  post-prandial  visit  of  observation  to 
the  mess-room.  "So  war  die  chicken,  und  all.  All 
war  gut." 

Frieda  turned  the  conversation  with  a  look  at  the 
clock.  l(Es  ist  spat,  heute." 

It  was  half -past  eight. 

"New  Year's  Night,  Frieda,"  coaxed  Mrs.  Scharff. 
"  Miss  Emilie  was  late  in  coming  from  church  and  we 
wanted  to  wait  for  her  to-night.  Only  once  a  year, 
you  know,  Frieda." 

But  Frieda  did  not  relax.  Dinner  had  been 
delayed  one  hour;  it  was  then  half -past  eight; 
"the  girls'  dinner"  was  yet  to  be  eaten  and  the 
rest  of  the  work  to  be  done. 

"Come  out  hier  und  alle  time  vatch  girls  eat.  I 
vill  no  eat  veil  she  hier.  No  lady  do  so.  'Happy 
New  Year  !  Only  once  a  year,  Frieda  ! ' '  Frieda 
in  mimicry  was  quite  delicious. 

"My  Julie,  she  my  niece  und  she  vork  only  drei 
block  avay,  haf  alle  time  six  o'clock  dinner  reg'lar. 
I  haf  haf -past  six,  seven,  half -past  sieben,  any  time. 
I  nevaire  know,"  she  sighed. 

I  wouldn't  object  to  New  Year's  dinner  in  the 
middle  of  every  September  if  I  had  Frieda  to  cook 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  139 

it  for  me.  "Who  taught  you  to  cook,  Frieda?"  I 
asked,  remembering  my  own  painful  efforts.  "You 
do  everything  just  right.  Don't  you  ever  make 
mistakes?" 

"Oh,  sometime  tings  iss  no  so  gut  wie  others, 
aber  immer  gut  enough.  I  nevair  spoil  tings  like 
green  girls.  I  would  no  be  cook  for  lifing  und  take 
money  wenn  I  not  know  my  business  und  make 
always  mistake.  Das  iss  no  recht.  I  lairn  first  in 
my  home,  in  my  Mutter's  Haus.  She  know  every- 
ting  to  cook  and  she  teach  me." 

A  few  questions  drew  from  the  cook  her  life  story, 
of  which  I  understood  the  subject  and  about  four 
words  of  narrative.  But  after  five  weeks,  as  I  was 
going  away,  I  got  it  from  her  again.  I  really  got  it, 
for  weeks  of  close  association,  of  trying  to  talk  her 
German,  or  follow  her  English,  which  was  an  indif- 
ferent and  hopeless  mixture  of  both  tongues,  had 
been  a  great  help  to  her  idiom. 

Ill 

Two  Sundays  in  a  week,  I  thought  happily  on  the 
morning  of  the  second  one.  For  the  first  had  been 
distinctly  easier  than  the  two  days  before  it,  although 
it  began,  as  henceforth  every  day  needs  must  begin, 
with  "the  scrubbing  of  the  front." 

This  is  not  a  religious  service — that  is,  it  is  not 
quite  like  other  religious  services.  The  world  at 
large  may  never  have  seen  the  long  line  of  kneeling 
devotees  going  through  their  early  morning  rites, 
scrub-brush  in  hand,  over  the  long  line  of  white 
marble  steps;  which,  may  their  children  of  the 
millennium  forgive  them,  the  early  fathers  thought 


1 40  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

a  pleasant  trimming  for  their  red  brick  houses,  and 
so  fastened  a  curse  on  serving  femininity  unto  the 
present  generation.  "For,"  says  the  neat  house- 
wife, "the  doorstep  is  but  the  index  of  the  house 
behind,  and  forever  in  the  eyes  of  all;  my  doorstep 
is  therefore  my  first  charge."  And  so  begins  a 
battling  but  never-ending  fight  with  the  elements 
and  the  tracking  sons  of  earth. 

Mrs.  Scharrf  was  a  very  neat  housewife,  and 
duly  mindful  of  the  eyes  of  all.  On  Saturdays 
especially,  for  then  the  step-ladder  was  brought  out, 
and  the  four  front  doors  with  adjacent  woodwork 
were  rubbed  all  over  with  a  damp  chamois  cloth, 
and  the  brick  pavement  scrubbed  with  a  broom 
and  a  pail  of  water. 

"And  be  very  careful,"  warned  Mrs.  Scharfl 
severely,  "that  you  don't  spatter  any  of  the  white 
sand  on  the  bricks,  or  leave  behind  you  any  straws 
from  your  broom !" 

On  the  other  six  days  of  the  week  there  was 
only  the  regular  scrubbing  of  all  the  marble  fronting 
on  the  street  (vestibule,  five  broad  steps,  the  deep 
facing  across  the  width  of  the  house,  two  window- 
sills,  and  the  step  at  the  alley  gate),  the  dusting 
of  the  doors,  polishing  the  several  doorknobs, 
hinges,  bells,  etc.,  and  sweeping  the  pavement. 

My  New  England  progenitors  would  have  nearly 
fainted  before  such  a  beginning  of  the  Sabbath, 
whereas  I  nearly  fainted  after  it — which  is  no 
argument  for  the  physical  regeneration  of  the  race, 
but  merely  the  effect  of  so  much  and  such  laborious 
bef ore-breakfast  work  on  one  not  used  to  it.  Some- 
thing in  the  air,  however,  warned  me  that  it  was 
not  good  form  to  take  regular  refreshment  before 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  141 

the  round  was  finished — the  dusting  of  three  stair- 
ways, halls  and  the  dining-room  still  remained — 
and  awe  of  the  power  slumbering  above  was  quite 
too  lively  to  risk  avoidable  reproof. 

But  the  good-hearted  Frieda  was  quite  as  depend- 
ent upon  our  early  snack  as  I ;  irregular  nourishment 
it  was,  which  we  ate  standing,  girded  for  our  first 
heat.  Neither  of  us  would  have  been  physically 
equal  to  the  programme  laid  out  for  us  without  the 
couple  of  slices  of  bread  and  cup  of  hot  tea  or 
warmed-over  coffee.  And  yet  our  dishes  were 
aways  washed  and  put  away  immediately  after 
we  had  finished. 

"For,"  said  Frieda,  when  we  spoke  about  it,  "old 
vomen  come  down  und  see,  she  make  fuss.  She  did 
once,"  the  cook  insisted  in  answer  to  my  incredulous 
"No-o."  "She  see  tings  setting  hier,  und  she  say, 
'Was  ist  dies,  Frieda— zwei  breakfists?  I  like  not 
zwei  breakfists,  Frieda;  it  iss  no  necessary  in  my 
haus.'  So  now  I  vash  all  up  and  put  avay." 

Saturday  being  Saturday  and  the  first  day  of  the 
year,  Mr.  Scharff  came  home  at  twelve  o'clock  and 
did  no  business  in  the  afternoon.  There  were 
no  letters  to  post,  or  other  need  for  much  trotting 
over  the  stairs.  I  waited  on  the  one  o'clock  dinner, 
feeling  no  doubt  more  spruce  than  I  looked  in  my 
new  uniform,  my  morning  routine  done,  and  my 
face  washed. 

In  the  afternoon  Frieda  and  I  had  time  to  rest. 
We  sat  together  in  our  mess-room,  reading  the 
papers  of  the  week  and  getting  better  acquainted. 

Frieda's  heart  was  big.  Our  last  great  national 
tragedy  had  not  then  drawn  to  its  fatal  close  and 
there  was  little  else  in  the  papers.  Frieda  looked  at 


i42  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

the  head-lines  and  at  her  request  I  read  aloud  some 
of  the  accounts,  simplifying  as  I  went. 

"Das  poor  Mrs.  McKinley !"  she  exclaimed  piti- 
fully several  times.  "Venn  Pressid  McKinley  hold 
out  to  shake  hands  mit  people,  das  Loffel  come  und 
shoot  he.  It  iss  terrible  !  Das  arme  Mrs.  McKinley  ! 
Poor.voman  !  und  sie  so  oft  krank  !  Was  you  tink 
von  das  Loffel,  Czolgosz?" 

Then  after  awhile,  keeping  our  ears  open  for  the 
upstairs  bell,  we  went  out  into  the  back  yard  for  a 
bit  of  air,  and  incidentally  to  see  the  family. 

"My  katze  Familie"  chanted  Frieda,  in  wildly 
caressing  tone;  "so  nice  Familie!  Da  ist  Mutter, 
und  Kind  und  Grosskind — all  leben  hier  im  back- 
yard, so  lustig  mit  einander.  Im  sommer  sie  haf 
gut  zeit  und  make  company  fur  me  venn  I  hier  bei 
myself.  Aber  im  vinter,  sie  sind  so  cold  !  Einmal 
kam  die  kleinste  up  im  ecke  bei  Thure  und  vait  bis 
somebody  sie  off  en  kam.  Hier,  meine  Katze!" 

But  Frieda's  family  was  as  wild  as  it  was  unbeau- 
tiful,  and  when  we  would  have  gone  near  the  two 
members  who  had  been  at  home  suddenly  took 
refuge  on  the  fence. 

/'Hi!     Poor  Katze!  sie  lieben  einander!"  Frieda 
finished  with  a  half  sigh. 

On  my  first  Thursday  out  the  smaller  cat  made 
Frieda  a  little  visit  in  the  mess-room  while  she  was 
at  her  dinner;  and  she  saved  the  story,  giving  it 
to  me  the  next  morning  with  lively  mimicry  and 
evident  relish. 

"  Die  kleine  kam  und  sass  bei  me  auf  Boden, 
und  vatch  while  I  eat ;  just  do  notting  but  sit  'nd 
vatch.  Und  Mrs.  Scharff  kam  ausy  und  sah  und 
sagte. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  143 

"'Oh,  Frieda!'"  Frieda  lifted  her  hands  and 
eyebrows  in  imitation.  * '  Look !  Ein  von  die 
Katze  von  outside,  hier  im  Haus! ' 

"  Und  I  look  at  she,  'nd  I  say,  'Wo?'  just  like 
das, "  which  was  genuine  mild  surprise  in 
perfection. 

:<Vhy,  right  da'  she  say. 

; '  Denn   I   look    und  say,    '  Oh !   poor   ting,  she 
hungry;  she  haf  no  home.'     So  I  go  on  eating. 

"Mrs.  Scharff  stand  and  look,  'nd  by  'nd  by  she 
go  avay  'nd  say  netting." 

Somehow  it  seemed  very  funny,  and  we  both 
laughed. 

From  love  in  the  cat  world  we  drifted — no,  we 
jumped  to  love  in  the  working  world ;  the  subject  of 
all  most  absorbing.  The  introductory  question  was 
for  the  moment  quite  startling. 

' '  You  lof  ?     You  haf  beau  ? ' ' 

It  carried  me  back  to  Kinderlieber  days.  I  shook 
my  head. 

"You  haf,  but  you  say  netting.  You  can  haf 
Freunde  come  hier." 

Again  I  declared  my  beauless  state.  But  she 
was  not  to  be  convinced.  "Youvant?" 

"Oh,  no,"  I  answered  decidedly.  "What  would 
I  do  with  one  if  I  had  him  ? " 

"  V — h — y  !  You  haf  fun  mit  him.  He  take  you 
places :  zum  park,  in  the-ar-tre,  and  by  and  by 
you  marry  und  haf  home." 

"No,"  I  insisted.  "I  don't  need  one.  I  rather 
have  fun  with  you,  and  go  to  places  by  myself.  I'm 
happier  without." 

My  mouth  began  to  stretch  after  the  fashion  of 
little  Alice's  friend  from  Cheshire,  and  Frieda 


144  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

looked  unbelievingly.  "Ha,  I  know!  You  haf, 
but  you  no  tell  anybody." 

"All  right,  then;  I  have  a  beau  if  you  want,  but 
he  is  hincwf.  'My  sweetheart  is  the  man  in  the 
moon . '  Where 's  yours  ? ' ' 

"  Mein  im  moon,  too,"  she  said,  more  appreciative 
than  I  deserved.  "I  no  care  any  more,  either,"  she 
said  seriously.  "I  used  to  go  out  mit  boys  and  girls 
and  haf  fun,  but  I  like  to  sit  down  hier  mit  papairs 
or  sew,  venn  I  through;  or  go  im  store  or  bei  my 
T ante's  mit  my  niece  Julie,  venn  I  haf  afternoon. 

"Susie,  she  chambermaid  hier  before  you,  she 
haf  beau,  named  Joe,  come  every  Saturday  night. 
He  blacksmith  and  nice  feller;  make  $12  a  veek," 
Frieda  resumed  after  a  pause.  "I  give  him  you; 
Susie  no  care,  she  go  avay  and  no  tell  he  vhere; 
she  tired  and  no  want  Joe  any  more.  I  get  him  for 
you.  He  come  hier  sometimes.  You  like  Joe?" 

Politely  I  declined  Susie's  left-overs. 

"No,  Frieda;  let  them  that  want  'em  have  'em. 
I  can't  be  bothered. 

"Ah,  you  be  old  maid!"  with  a  loud  ha,  ha! 
"No,  you  too  yung  fur  das.  I  no  care  any  more, 
I  too  old ;  but  I  used  to  go  to  ball  and  parties  venn 
I  yung.  You  yung,  you  be  gay.  It  rest  you  venn 
you  tired  mit  work  to  haf  gut  time.  Yung  girls 
can  no  vork  alles  time  wie  alt,  und  nevair  rest." 

Afterward  the  stories  of  Maggie  and  Mary  were 
told  me,  for  that  subject  was  a  favourite  one  with 
Frieda  and  often  renewed.  Both  Maggie  and  Mary 
had  lived  at  the  ScharfTs'  during  her  service  there, 
had  had  "beaus,"  married  them,  and  were  now 
happy  in  homes  of  their  own.  Maggie  more 
particularly  had  found  her  fate  in  the  butcher  man 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  145 

who  used  to  go  by  early  in  the  mornings  while  she 
was  scrubbing  the  front.  He  liked  her  looks,  spoke 
to  her  one  morning,  and  they  made  an  appointment 
to  meet,  which  was  kept,  despite  the  objection  of 
Mrs.  Scharff,  who  insisted,  having  been  an  observer 
through  the  busybody,  that  the  man  meant  no 
good  to  the  girl. 

"She  mad  wenn  girl  gets  married,"  commented 
Frieda. 

If  Saturday  was  restful,  Sunday  was  more  so.  It 
was  lonesome,  for  Frieda  took  her  afternoon  out, 
having  first  made  me  at  home  in  Mrs.  ScharfFs 
apartment,  offering  the  attractions  of  the  busybody, 
the  book-table  and  couch.  For  Mrs.  Scharff  and 
daughter,  be  it  known,  had  departed  that  morning 
for  New  York;  and  Mr.  Scharff,  so  Frieda  said,  was 
safely  out  until  supper  time — half-past  five  or  six 
o'clock. 

By  myself  I  never  would  have  dared  such  free- 
dom with  even  the  empty  room  of  my  august 
mistress.  Nor  can  I  say  that  I  was  really  com- 
fortable there,  though  Frieda  assured  me  that  it 
was  the  correct  thing  to  do;  that  she  always  sat 
there  to  rest  or  sew  on  summer  afternoons  when  her 
work  was  done. 

"  It  issso  hot  im  kitchen,"  she  said,  "und  no  place 
to  lie  me  down,"  which  was  quite  true. 

But  suppose  Mrs.  Scharff  should  come  back 
unexpectedly  and  I  should  not  hear  the  bell ;  suppose 
Mr.  Scharff  should  suddenly  come  in  with  his  latch- 
key and  find  me  there !  So  I  vibrated  between  the 
mess-room,  where  it  was  unendurably  close,  and 
the  second-story  front,  where  there  was  coolness 
and  mental  disquiet. 


i46  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Frieda  appeared  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  vibra- 
tion, so  festive  in  dry  goods  and  millinery  that  I 
hardly  knew  her.  Really  tasteful  and  stylish  her 
garments  were — if  I  except  the  flower-laden  hat, 
which  was  a  trifle  too  gay  for  my  taste.  She  was 
going  over  after  Julie,  her  niece,  who  worked  two 
squares  over  and  one  up;  and  together  they  were 
going  to  see  her  aunt  in  the  extreme  south  of  the 
city.  And  so  she  left  me,  lost  without  her  and  a 
little  burdened  by  the  responsibility  of  getting  supper 
for  "boss,"  though  every  single  thing  had  been  left 
ready  for  me. 

It  was  a  comfortable  couch — that  in  Mrs.  Scharff 's 
room.  I  finally  stretched  myself  upon  it,  but  not 
daring  to  risk  a  nap,  fell  into  a  whimsical  considera- 
tion of  the  morning's  event — the  departure,  the 
announcement  of  which  had  come  as  a  welcome 
surprise  to  both  Frieda  and  me. 

Mrs.  Scharff  had  appeared  anxious  under  the  re- 
sponsibility of  getting  off  and  was  unusually  nervous, 
as  was  natural  upon  so  important  an  occasion  as  a 
two-hour  journey  by  steam.  No  doubt  it  meant  to 
her  much  more  than  that;  perhaps  more  than  such 
as  I  could  ever  grasp,  for  always,  I  noted,  the  name 
of  the  city  to  which  she  was  ever  traveling  upon  the 
most  trifling  pretext  was  pronounced  as  by  one 
puffed  with  the  pride  of  monopoly. 

She  had  appeared  in  the  dining-room  betimes, 
all  hatted  and  gowned  for  the  journey,  and  in  a 
hurry  for  her  breakfast.  Frieda  had  it  ready,  and 
I  set  it  before  her  without  delay. 

" Eliza, "  she  began  importantly,  "I'm  going  to 
New  York  this  morning — my  daughter  and  I  are 
going  to  New  York — to  be  gone  until  Wednesday." 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  147 

To  think  that  I  was  serving  a  woman  who  was 
about  to  do  such  a  wondrously  grand  thing  !  What 
importance !  But  I  did  not  let  it  disturb  my  poise. 
"You  are  only  a  mortal,  madam;  you  are  only  a 
mortal,  madam,"  was  the  thought  that  came  to 
me  for  the  timely  saving  of  what  little  head  I  had 
left. 

After  an  impressive  pause,  she  continued:  "I'm 
sorry  to  go  so  soon  before  you  are  accustomed  to  the 
work,  but  it  is  necessary.  You  are,  of  course,  to  help 
Frieda  with  the  wash  and  ironing  on  Monday  and 
Tuesday,  and  Wednesday — well,  I  will  be  at  home 
on  Wednesday.  Be  sure,  Eliza,  to  keep  the  front 
door  locked  all  the  time  and  don't  let  anybody 
into  the  house  while  I'm  gone.  And  don't  you  give 
anything  out  of  the  house,  to  any  person,  whatso- 
ever, who  may  call  and  say  that  Mr.  Scharff,  or 
Mrs.  Scharff,  sent  them  for  such  and  such  an  article." 

I  said  "Yes'm"  at  the  proper  places,  nodded 
with  some  show  of  discretion,  and  retired.  Nor 
did  Mrs.  Scharff  see  in  my  face  any  of  the  exuberance 
below  it,  though  she  peered  there  closely  enough 
for  something.  My  joy  could  keep  until  I  got  out 
to  Frieda  in  the  kitchen. 

But  the  good  tidings  were  hardly  out  of  my 
mouth  before  her  bell  rang  for  me. 

"Miss  Emilie  is  very  late,"  she  observed,  some- 
what annoyed.  "I  wish  you  would  go  up  and  see 
if  you  can  help  her.  Say  to  her  that  I  do  not  need 
you  now,  and  that  I  sent  you  up  to  help  her." 

I  ran  hurriedly  up  to  the  third  floor  and  repeated 
my  message.  But  Miss  Emilie  did  not  need  me 
just  then,  either.  I  might  strap  her  suit-case  in  a 
little  while  and  take  it  down ;  but  not  now,  for  there 


1 48  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

was  yet  something  to  be  put  in  it.  She  would  call 
me  when  she  was  ready. 

"Oh,  Eliza !" 

I  went  back  again  from  the  floor  below. 

"You  might  take  this  coat  down,  and  the  umbrella 
in  that  corner.  Lay  them  on  a  chair  in  the  dining- 
room,  please."  Miss  Emilie  always  said  "please" 
and  "thank  you."  After  this  errand  I  retired  to  the 
mess-room,  only  to  be  called  away  again  to  go  for 
Mrs.  Scharff 's  jacket  and  bag,  which  were  ready  on 
the  couch  in  her  room. 

Then  I  went  again  to  Miss  Emilie' s  room.  Had 
I  but  a  taste  for  figures  it  would  be  a  pleasant 
pastime  to  calculate  the  proportion  of  my  days 
spent  on  the  Scharff  stairway;  it  must  have  been  a 
considerable  one.  This  time  I  hooked  Miss  Emilie's 
collar  and  belt,  found  a  pair  of  gloves,  locked  her 
suit-case  and  carried  it  downstairs  to  the  front 
door. 

Presently  Miss  Emilie  herself  appeared  and  ate  a 
leisurely  breakfast,  while  her  mother  nervously 
turned  the  leaves  of  the  morning  paper,  or  inter- 
viewed Frieda  in  the  mess-room,  or  warned  me  again 
about  the  front  door. 

At  last  Frieda  got  her  third  good-by  from  Mrs. 
Scharff,  with  an  injunction  which  explained  no 
doubt  the  significant  thumb -jerk  in  my  direction. 
Miss  Emilie  affectionately  kissed  her  father,  who 
had  just  appeared  downstairs,  and  the  party  moved 
toward  the  front  door,  followed  by  me  with  the 
coats,  bag  and  umbrella. 

At  the  front  door  there  was  a  readjustment  of 
burden.  Miss  Emilie  lifted  the  suit-case,  but 
Mrs.  Scharff  objected. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  149 

"Let  Eliza  take  that,  Emilie;  it  is  so  heavy,  and 
it  is  such  a  terrible  hot  morning.  Can  you  take 
both  bags,  Eliza?" 

I  took  both,  one  in  each  hand. 

"You  can  take  them  to  the  car  for  us,"  she  said. 

Another  good-by  to  Frieda — the  fourth  and  last 
— an  imploring  "Take  care  of  everything  for  me," 
and  the  tall  figures  moved  elegantly  down  the  street, 
followed  by  a  rather  undersized  maid  with  their 
luggage. 

Our  party  walked  three  squares  to  the  car  line. 
I  gave  the  bags  to  Miss  Emilie  on  the  rear  platform, 
as  I  had  seen  other  porters  do,  and  the  car  moved  off, 
and  without  a  single  good-by  for  me. 

I  did  not  shed  tears  over  the  slight;  still — well, 
she  was  gone,  anyhow.  I  had  that  comfort,  though 
Frieda  had  been  told  to  "keep  an  eye  on  me." 

"I  am  no  vatch  dog  das  I  vatch  chambermaid," 
declared  the  disgusted  cook  at  her  confession. 

She  did  not  watch  me;  or  if  she  did  I  was  not 
unpleasantly  conscious  of  it.  If  I  could  sufficiently 
understand  her  directions  to  follow  them  I  was 
content ;  for  Frieda  seemed  a  master  of  system. 

As  there  was  what  Mrs.  Scharff  called  "a  small 
wash"  for  Monday,  we  got  through  it  with  six  hours 
of  hard,  steady  work.  I  do  not  wish  to  bring  the 
Scharff  laundry -list  into  unnecessary  publicity,  but 
if  six  sheets,  five  white  shirt-waists,  with  other  things 
accordingly,  be  a  small  wash  for  three  people,  I  was 
quite  satisfied  never  to  have  a  big  one. 

We  had  a  nice  comfortable  little  lunch  that 
Monday,  just  we  two,  with  nobody  to  bother  us.  I 
was  tired  in  my  bones,  but  as  happy  and  free  as  when 
I  used  to  play  house  under  the  paternal  fig-tree. 


1 50  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

In  the  afternoon  we  ironed  till  dinner  time  and 
received  company.  That  is,  Frieda  received,  and 
the  freedom  with  which  she  did  the  honours  quite 
took  my  breath  away. 

I  was  introduced  to  a  niece — not  Julie — of  whom 
she  had  already  told  me;  and  to  Susie,  who  had 
come  for  part  of  her  wardrobe ;  and  I  was  included 
in  the  conversation,  as  is  the  custom  in  all  good 
society.  Frieda  brought  out  cake  which  would 
otherwise  have  gotten  too  stale  for  the  Scharff 
palate,  warmed  up  some  coffee  and  made  ice-water, 
which  latter  beverage  I  found  particularly  grateful, 
for  the  afternoon  was  sultry. 

Did  I  like  my  place  ?  the  ladies  asked  me ;  and  was 
I  going  to  stay?  But  I  couldn't  tell  so  soon. 
Frieda  told  Susie,  though,  all  the  Scharff  news. 

"  Yah,  Mrs.  Scharff  and  Miss  Emilie  haf  gone  nach 
New  York.  Went  Sunday  morning,  'nd  was  you 
tink  ?  Lizy,  she  say  to  me,  '  I  so  glad  dey  go,  I  hop 
dey  stay  six  weeks/  und  she  hier  only  second  day. 
Was  you  tink?" 

Then  they  both  laughed. 

Frieda  also  told  Susie,  a  bit  triumphantly,  I 
thought,  that  Lizy  had  got  up  that  morning  at  five 
o'clock  and  begun  to  wash  by  gas-light. 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  get  up  so  early  as  that,"  was 
Susie's  comment.  "I  couldn't  do  it." 

Frieda  had  told  me  that  Susie  was  lazy. 

"I  see  you  wear  the  collar  and  cuffs,"  Susie 
observed  after  awhile. 

"Yes;  Mrs.  Scharff  said  she  required  it." 

"They  always  say  that.  Mrs.  Scharfl  told  me 
that,  too,  but  I  never  wore  them  when  I  worked; 
only  at  night  with  the  black.  That's  all  habit, 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  151 

anyway.  If  you  start  in  that  way  they'll  expect 
you  to  keep  it  up.  I  wouldn't  begin  it  if  I 
were  you. " 

My  soul  loves  a  uniform,  but  I  did  give  up  wearing 
cuffs  in  the  morning  after  awhile.  I  could  be 
respectable  in  eight  pair  a  week;  but  I  couldn't 
launder  them  myself,  and  the  laundry  was  too 
expensive  for  a  $4  wage,  Mrs.  Scharff  failing  to 
suggest  that  that  expense  should  be  hers. 

"  I  see  you  haven't  cleaned  house  yet,"  said  Susie. 

"No,"  said  Frieda,  "sitting-room  going  to  be  all 
done  over.  Vorkmen  come  next  week." 

"Is  it  hard  here  in  housecleaning,"  I  asked,  for 
the  sake  of  saying  something. 

"There  is  a  little  more  to  be  done,  of  course," 
answered  Miss  Susie,  as  if  that  little  were  scarce 
worth  mentioning.  Finally  she  hoped  politely  that 
I  would  like  my  place,  and  recommended  me  to  take 
good  care  of  Mrs.  Scharff.  A  recommendation  which 
pleased  me  mightily. 


Frieda  might  take  it  as  a  joke  if  she  liked.  It  did 
me  quite  as  much  good  to  have  Mrs.  Scharff  go  to 
New  York  as  it  would  to  have  gone  myself.  It  left 
me  quietly  there  with  Frieda.  I  grew  accustomed 
to  the  place  and  to  my  work,  which  I  did  conscien- 
tiously, slighting  no  little  thing.  And  as  there  was 
only  Frieda's  superior  ability  to  remind  me  what 
an  inferior  creature  I  was,  I  forgot  it,  and  regained 
something  of  wonted  poise  and  common  sense. 
And  that  was  very  well. 

There  were  two  flies  in  my  ointment,  however;  I 
was  not  quite  at  peace  on  account  of  the  ironing, 


152  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

which  with  our  best  efforts  we  did  not  finish  until 
Wednesday  morning.  The  five  white  shirt-waists 
were  my  portion,  Frieda  said,  because  I  was  cham- 
bermaid. I  did  my  best  with  them,  as  with  the  rest, 
and  judged  that  it  was  surprising  well,  though  not 
perfection.  I  had  a  presentment  that  the  work  of 
a  professional  would  be  expected. 

An  accident,  too,  cast  a  real  shadow  of  appre- 
ciable size,  which  I  tried  to  let  lie  behind  me  as 
much  as  possible.  One  would  prefer,  in  any  case, 
not  to  begin  the  week  by  breaking  things;  and  I 
especially  would  have  preferred  not  to  break  the  tall 
vase  whose  flowers  had  graced  the  New  Year's 
dinner.  But  by  Monday  morning  Ichabod  was 
written  on  those  posies  unmistakably.  I  carefully 
set  the  vase  upon  the  mess-room  table  for  a  moment, 
while  I  should  decide  what  casket  would  be  most 
fitting  for  the  poor  dead  things  on  their  last  ride. 
Meanwhile,  Black  Jack,  with  unusual  inquisitive- 
ness,  jumped  on  the  table  and  was  preparing  to  rub 
lovingly  against  the  tall,  top-heavy  thing. 

"Jack!  Scat,  you  wretch!  Get  down!"  I 
stamped  my  foot  at  him,  but  he  paid  no  attention, 
being  overfed  and  phlegmatic;  so  I  lifted  him 
gently.  I  think  he  was  obstinate  besides,  for  he 
stuck  his  claws  into  the  table-cloth  and  pulled  it  with 
him;  which  of  course  tipped  over  the  vase,  which 
broke  into  countless  pieces. 

Consternation  was  writ  on  Frieda's  brow  when  I 
brought  her  to  the  scene. 

"Whatever  shall  I  do  about  it?"  I  worried.  "I 
can't  tell  her  until  she  comes  home,  of  course,  and 
she'll  be  cross  naturally.  I  wonder  how  much  the 
bloomin'  thing  cost,  for  I  ought  to  pay  for  it— 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  153 

"No,  you  no  pay  venn  cat  breaks,  you  poor  girl; 
you  could  no  help,"  said  Frieda  under  her  breath. 
"You  keep  you  money." 

"  Well,  she  might  teach  her  old  cat  to  stay  on  the 
floor  where  he  belongs,"  I  said  irritably.  "What 
do  you  do  when  you  break  things?" 

"I  no  break  tings."  But  since  my  accident  was 
sure  to  be  discovered,  Frieda  advised  me:  "You 
go  to  Mrs.  ScharfT  at  night  venn  you  undress  beds, 
and  say,  Mrs.  Scharff,  excuse  me ;  I  very  sorry,  but 
the  vase  iss  broke.  It  iss  no  my  fault;  es  war  die 
Katze: 

"  Und  she  say,  'Vhy,  how  did  you  do  das  ?'  ' 

"So  you  say  to  she;  and  she  say  she  sorry,  you  be 
careful  not  to  do  so  again." 

But  although  I  had  the  matter  much  in  mind,  I 
did  not  mention  it  to  Mrs.  Scharff  immediately  on 
her  return.  I  dreaded  the  telling,  for  somehow, 
after  I  had  let  in  the  returned  traveler  Wednesday 
night,  I  could  not  have  Frieda's  faith  that  the 
occasion  would  be  a  pleasant  one.  Mrs.  Scharff 
had  pushed  by  me  with  a  cold,  suspicious  look, 
hardly  a  nod  of  greeting,  and  had  gone  straight 
out  into  the  kitchen  to  Frieda. 

"How  childish  you  are — over  such  a  simple  matter, 
too !"  I  said  to  myself  after  I  had  gone  to  bed. 
"I  will  say  what  I  have  to  say  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning." 

But  alas  !  there  was  such  a  strong  play  of  emotion 
in  the  morning,  and  all  through  the  day,  that 
the  very  air  was  charged  with  it.  It  was  but  the 
part  of  prudence  to  lie  low  and  wait.  For  several 
days,  indeed,  Frieda  and  I  went  our  several  ways 
with  especial  care. 


154  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Frieda  said  it  was  on  account  of  the  workmen. 
They  were  a  trial  no  doubt,  as  Frieda  and  I  would 
have  found  had  we  left  dear  New  York  on  Wednes- 
day night  that  we  might  be  on  hand  early  Thursday 
morning  for  paperers  and  painters  who  did  not  appear 
until  afternoon,  and  then  only  after  the  company 
had  been  stirred  up  by  telephone.  Frieda  and  I 
would  have  been  aggravated,  too,  no  doubt,  if,  having 
decided  upon  dark-green  paper  for  the  walls  and 
light-green  for  the  ceiling  of  our  room,  the  contractor 
had  sent  us  dark-green  and  pink,  because  every- 
body else  had  it  so,  and  we  would  prefer  it  if  we 
knew  our  own  minds. 

And  then,  if  the  workmen  had  carelessly  spilled 
lime  on  our  summer  linen  which  was  protecting  a 
heavy,  well-conditioned  velvet  carpet  underneath; 
if  still  more  carelessly  they  had  kicked  aside  the 
paper  and  old  quilts  which  we  had  directed  our 
chambermaid  to  spread  over  the  floor;  if  they  had 
walked  on  that  lime,  treading  it  into  the  linen — we, 
too,  might  have  marched  among  them  more  furious 
than  was  necessary,  and  we  might  have  raged  and 
torn  about  like — things  not  pleasant  to  mention 
in  this  connection. 

"Look  at  the  lime  in  that  corner  all  spilled  out  of 
the  bag !  And  how  you've  tracked  it  everywhere  ! 
That  lime' 11  eat  through  my  linen  like  a  sieve ! 
My  carpet  will  be  ruined ! 

"Here,  young  man,"  to  a  workman  high  on  a 
staging,  "  can't  you  come  down  a  minute  and  take 
up  this  lime?  Why  couldn't  you  let  those  papers 
on  the  floor  be,  after  I  took  the  trouble  to  spread 
them  down !" 

So  stormed  Mrs.   ScharfL     The  mechanics  were 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  155 

abashed ;  they  shivered  a  little  and  then  went  on  with 
their  work.  Only  the  young  apprentice  tried  to 
gather  the  offending  lime  into  a  paper  and  got 
soundly  rated  for  putting  it  carefully  down  on 
another  corner  to  get  spilled  again. 

"Are  you  going  to  use  that  any  more?"  asked 
Mrs.  Scharff. 

"No." 

"Then  it  doesn't  need  to  be  here.  Take  it  down 
into  the  yard.  Put  it  down  in  the  side  yard  by  the 
pump.  Look  sharp,  now !  Are  you  holding  that 
so  it  won't  spill  out  all  the  way?  I  don't  want 
lime  all  through  my  house  any  thicker  than  is 
necessary !" 

I  didn't  enjoy  the  workmen  much  on  my  own 
account.  I  had  to  follow  with  a  cloth  and  wipe 
away  their  manly  tracks  every  time  they  went  any- 
where. But  I  sympathized  with  them.  I  didn't 
wonder  that  they  asked  with  bated  breath  when 
they  came  in  the  morning,  "Is  she  in?"  When 
we  said  "No,"  they  became  suddenly  quite  cheerful 
and  hoped  she  would  stay  right  where  she  was  for 
a  long  time.  When  we  said  "Yes,"  they  sighed, 
slunk  into  themselves,  took  a  turn  about  the  yard 
or  went  down  into  the  cellar  on  an  errand,  until 
their  courage  should  rise. 

Yes,  under  those  conditions  Frieda  and  I  would 
have  been  annoyed  too,  but — I  hope  it  is  not  disre- 
spectful to  hope  that  we  would  not  have  manifested 
the  irritation  quite  so  generally. 

A  cook,  I  notice,  is  quite  likely  to  escape  much  of 
this  vicarious  scolding,  especially  if  she  be  a  good 
cook.  But  Frieda  was  not  without  her  troubles.  She 
objected  to  the  extra  confusion  and  dirt  as  well  as 


156  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

to  atmospheric  effects.  For  myself,  the  dirt  and 
the  confusion  might  all  be  a  part  of  the  day's  work. 
But  I  felt  that  the  unnecessary  humiliations  of  that 
second  week  should  not  have  been. 

Whether  the  first  of  those  unpleasant  surprises 
may  be  traced  to  the  presence  of  workmen,  or 
whether  it  was  a  regular  feature  of  initiation  rites, 
to  be  gone  through  by  every  new  girl,  is  a  question 
yet  unsolved. 

The  little  drama  I  refer  to  occurred  on  Thursday 
morning,  the  morning  after  Mrs.  ScharfFs  return. 
Mrs.  Scharff  was  in  her  own  room,  looking  over  the 
clothes  before  putting  them  away.  I  was  making 
the  beds.  She  spoke  the  opening  words: 

"Eliza,  come  here!  See,  the  sheets  aren't  folded 
right.  They  won't  go  in  my  closet  as  big  as  that." 
(One  more  fold  would  have  given  the  desired  size 
and  shape.)  "  These  pillow-cases  aren't  right,  either. 
What  made  you  fold  them  that  way  ?" 

I  pointed  out  what  in  the  pattern  of  the  article 
had  suggested  the  idea,  feeling  as  uncomfortable  as 
though  I  had  been  caught  with  the  family  diamonds 
in  my  pocket. 

"Those  pillow-cases  aren't  well  ironed.  They 
got  too  dry  and  the  iron  wasn't  hot  enough.  I 
can't  put  them  away  like  that !  Did  you  iron 
them?" 

"Some  of  them,"  I  answered  glumly. 

They  were  very  respectably  done  and  I  knew  it ; 
and  they  went  on  her  bed  the  next  week  without,  I 
trust,  endangering  the  life,  health,  happiness  or 
social  position  of  the  family. 

She  took  one  from  the  pile  of  sheets  again.  "They 
aren't  folded  even,  either.  Fold  a  sheet  so  that  the 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  157 

edges  are  all  even.  Get  Frieda  to  help  you;  the 
sheets  are  too  large  for  one  alone."  (Frieda  and  I 
together  had  folded  every  one  of  them.)  ' 'They're 
gray  and  dingy-looking,  too.  Did  you  rub  them 
through  two  waters  before  they  were  boiled?" 

I  looked  at  her  blankly. 

"All  the  clothes  should  be  rubbed  through  two 
waters  before  they  are  boiled,"  she  said.  Then 
they  should  be  rinsed  through  three  waters.  Were 
these  done  so?" 

"I  don't  know  that  they  were  rubbed  through 
two  waters  before  they  were  boiled,"  I  answered; 
"but  all  the  rest  was  done." 

"Well,  always  rub  them  through  two  waters 
before  boiling.  Some  girls  can  get  them  clean  by 
doing  it  once,  some  can't;  it  depends." 

I  reflected  upon  the  usual  condition  of  Philadel- 
phia water,  often  mistaken  by  strangers  for  muddy 
coffee,  and  wondered  why  it  was  that  her  clothes 
should  be  gray.  She  bade  me  tie  cloth  strainers 
over  all  the  faucets  for  the  next  week,  however. 

"I  don't  like  the  way  those  sheets  are  ironed," 
continued  Mrs.  Scharff.  "Is  that  the  best  you  can 
do?" 

"I  didn't  iron  the  sheets,"  I  replied  truthfully. 

"Oh,  didn't  you?  Well,  the  pillow-cases  are  no 
better  and  you  did  those  ?  Can't  you  do  better,  or 
did  you  hurry?" 

As  I  did  not  answer,  she  took  the  garment  from 
the  top  of  the  next  pile  and  spread  it  forth.  "See 
those  wrinkles !  Why,  that  can't  be  worn !  That 
goes  into  the  wash  again,"  contemptuously. 

"I  didn't  iron  that  either,"  I  observed. 

"Well,  what  did  you  iron?" 


158  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Table  linen,  starched  clothes  and  towels  mostly," 
I  answered. 

"Did  you  do  the  towels?"  she  asked  with  a  differ- 
ent note,  as  she  lifted  a  few.  But  as  they  were  all 
perfectly  smooth  and  evenly  folded,  there  was 
nothing  to  say  about  them,  and  she  passed  to  the 
stockings  which  she  observed  to  be  all  wrinkles. 

"It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  had  my  washing 
and  ironing  so  poorly  done.  You  will  have  to  do 
better  than  that." 

"I'm  sorry  if  you  aren't  satisfied,"  I  replied 
dejectedly.  "I  do  as  well  as  I  can — nobody  ever 
found  fault  before." 

"Well,  I  find  fault,  because  I  am  not  satisfied. 
I  want  my  work  better  done,"  and  she  looked  into 
my  face  impressively. 

"I  can't  do  any  better  than  I  can,"  I  returned 
doggedly,  as  I  left  her  for  my  bed-making. 

She  started  as  if  to  follow.  "But  that  is  no 
excuse  for  not  trying  all  the  time  to  do  better, 
is  it?" 

I  made  no  answer.  I  had  put  my  best  efforts 
into  the  work  she  had  just  been  looking  over.  It 
was  all  done  "plenty  well  enough,"  as  Frieda  said. 
For  most  of  the  things  upon  which  she  had  passed 
special  criticism  I  was  not  responsible.  And  if  I 
had  been,  she  was  unnecessarily  severe. 

"Said  she  so?"  queried  my  friend  below  stairs, 
somewhat  amused. 

"Weren't  they  done  as  well  as  usual,  Frieda?"  I 
asked. 

She  nodded.  "So  gut  wie  chambermaids  do. 
The  collar  vomen  was  alle  zeit  vash  and  iron  do 
better.  You  new  girl;  she  will  scare  you.  She  do 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  159 

always  so  mit  new  girl.  Es  war  alles  gut  enough. 
I  cook.  I  no  laundress:  I  nevair  said  so."  Frieda 
was  growing  vexed  on  her  own  account. 

"Don't  you  mind,  Lizy.  Venn  she  talk  to  you 
so,  you  say  nothing.  Das  iss  best;  say  alvays 
netting." 

Constitutionally  I  like  to  see  things  well  done; 
and  I  like  to  do  them  well,  if  I  must  do  them  at  all. 
But  never  since  that  day  have  I  tried  to  better  my 
best  in  the  laundry  line.  I  am  satisfied  that  pro- 
fessional excellence  will  never  be  mine. 

So  much  for  the  tale  of  the  morning.  At  night, 
just  before  dinner,  Mrs.  Scharff  came  into  the  mess- 
room,  storming. 

You  haven't  been  to  my  room  since  I  left  it 
this  noon !" 

"I  was  in  to  light  the  gas." 

She  recollected  that  she  had  found  it  lighted,  but 
her  pause  was  for  only  a  moment. 

"Here  I  come  home  at  night  to  find  that  hat-box 
on  the  couch  just  where  I  left  it;  the  window  is  up 
and  it's  as  cold  as  November  in  the  room,  and 
both  curtains  flung  clear  to  the  top  just  as  I  left 
them.  Didn't  I  say  to  you,  «  Pick  up  my  room  this 
afternoon  ?' ' 

"I  did  pick  up  quite  a  few  things  in  the  room. 
I  left  the  hat-box  purposely,  thinking  you'd  want 
it  as  soon  us  you  got  back.  I  didn't  know  where  to 
put  it,  anyway,"  I  explained  as  one  quite  down- 
trodden. 

"You  didn't  leave  the  shades  up  on  purpose,  I 
hope !  Both  the  shades  are  flung  way  up  out  of 
sight !  My  heavens  !  what '11  the  neighbours  think?" 

I  was  sorry  for  my  own  sake  that  I  had  forgotten 


160  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

to  notice  the  shades,  but  I  was  far  from  caring  what 
the  neighbours  thought,  or  whether  they  thought 
anything.  The  next  night,  however,  I  attended 
to  Mrs.  ScharfFs  room  with  supernatural  care, 
going  back  twice  to  make  doubly  sure  on  the  matter 
of  shades;  and  the  room  being  cold  and  damp  by 
reason  of  a  drizzling  rain,  I  closed  the  windows. 

The  next  night  immediately  after  dinner  Mrs. 
Scharff  came  sailing  out  to  the  mess-room  to  demand, 
some  fury  still  suppressed,  "Eliza  !  what  made  you 
shut  the  windows  in  my  room?" 

"Because  the  room  was  cold,"  I  answered  promptly 
and  with  some  show  of  surprise. 

"Oh,  was  it?"  feebly.  Mrs.  Scharff  retired, 
unable  to  think  of  anything  to  say. 

Such  fire  in  an  entrance !  Such  gentleness  in  an 
exit !  I  hope  I  may  be  pardoned  for  thinking  of  the 
time-worn  simile  long  sacred  to  the  first  month  of 
spring,  but  it  was  very  pat. 

"  Is  there  any  way  at  all  of  pleasing  that  woman  ?" 
I  demanded  of  Frieda,  after  giving  the  woman  time 
to  get  beyond  earshot.  Frieda  and  I  thought  we 
had  good  reason  to  suspect  Mrs.  Scharff  of  some- 
times lingering  a  little  on  the  other  side  of  the  mess- 
room  door. 

"  Vy  you  try  to  please  ?  Das  iss  foolish.  Just  do 
vork  always  the  same  and  don't  mind  anyting," 
advised  Frieda. 

"But  how  can  I?"  I  persisted.  "Yesterday  she 
blows  me  up  because  I  leave  the  window  open; 
to-day,  in  a  cold  rainstorm,  she  blows  me  up  again 
because  I  shut  it." 

"Ugh!  She  no  know  was  she  vant!"  grunted 
Frieda. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  161 

"Yes,  that's  plain.  But  there  are  plenty  of 
women  who  do  know  what  they  want,  and  who  can 
tell  the  girl  who  works  for  them  as  a  lady  should,"  I 
muttered.  "I  don't  have  to  stand  it,  nor  I  won't 
if  she  keeps  this  up."  I  was  beginning  to  find  out 
how  I  liked  my  place. 

"I  know,"  sympathized  Frieda  soothingly.  "It's 
awful !  I  vas  always  going  venn  I  first  come ;  but 
she.  iss  no  so  bad  venn  you  used  to  she.  There  is 
someting  not  nice  mit  every  place." 

But  I  did  not  want  to  get  used  to  such  ruffianly 
ways ;  I  could  not  be  so  quickly  soothed. 

"Put  that  back — go  get  your  tray.  If  there  was 
a  rug  on  this  floor  you'd  have  it  ruined  with  the 
dripping  from  the  cover  of  that  soup-tureen.  My 
heavens,  girl !  where  are  your  senses  ?  You  must 
put  your  mind  to  your  work !  How  do  you  ever 
expect  to  get  along!" 

This  was  at  the  Thursday  night  dinner,  when 
suffering  from  two  scenes  and  lack  of  practice  during 
her  visit  to  New  York — Mr.  Scharff's  soup  was 
served  in  a  plate  from  the  kitchen — I  forgot  that 
I  could  not  bear  away  the  cover  of  the  troublesome 
dish  without  a  tray,  and  would  have  carried  it  forth 
in  my  hands,  steamy  side  up. 

I  do  not  hold  slight  resentments  forever,  but  I 
need  some  time  in  which  to  forget.  In  the  matter  of 
serving  soup  I  could  not  complain  of  reproof,  what- 
ever I  might  think  of  the  way  in  which  it  was  given. 
The  matter  of  the  window-shades,  too,  though  the 
aggravation  of  humiliation,  might  seem  too  trivial 
for  serious  notice  in  a  day  or  two.  Through  Frieda's 
influence  the  comic  of  the  laundry  criticism  was 
gradually  taking  precedence  of  the  tragic.  But  the 


i62  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

time  was  still  too  short  for  me  not  to  remember 
why  I  had  not  gone  out  my  first  Thursday 
afternoon. 

"I  give  a  week-day  afternoon — Thursday  for  the 
upstairs  girl — a  Sunday  afternoon  and  one  evening," 
Mrs.  Scharff  had  explained  magnanimously  on  the 
morning  of  my  application.  "One  week  a  Thurs- 
day, the  next  week  a  Sunday;  and  the  week  you 
have  a  Sunday  you  have  an  evening." 

That  sounded  liberal  enough.  Very  fondly  I 
expected  to  be  satisfied.  Naturally,  having  just  got 
into  a  new  place,  I  wanted  my  first  free  afternoon 
on  the  eighth  day  rather  than  on  the  tenth,  and 
had  counted  on  it  eagerly. 

But  what  are  the  expectations  of  a  chambermaid 
that  a  more  favoured  woman  should  regard  them? 

"Er— Eliza,"  said  Mrs.  Scharff  on  Thursday 
morning,  seemingly  a  bit  uneasy  in  her  mind,  "I 
can't  let  you  go  out  this  afternoon  on  account  of  the 
workmen  who  are  coming." 

I  had  expected  something  of  the  sort,  being 
warned  by  Frieda,  who  had  been  interviewed  on 
the  subject  of  my  intentions.  But  Mrs.  Scharff  s 
authoritative  air  did  not  set  well  on  my  spirit, 
especially  after  her  late  criticism.  I  looked  her  in 
the  eyes  a  full  minute  before  I  reminded  her  that 
Thursday  was  my  day,  and  that  I  wished  to  take 
that  afternoon. 

"  I  gave  you  a  Thursday  of  one  week  and  a 
Sunday  of  the  next,"  she  explained  gently.  "You 
have  been  here  only  a  week  and  are  entitled  to 
either  day,  whichever  I  choose  to  allow  you.  It 
does  not  suit  me  to  give  you  the  Thursday  of  this 
week,  because  of  the  strange  workmen  who  are 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  163 

coming.  I  cannot  stay  at  home  myself  on  account 
of  my  business." 

"  I  wish  to  go  out  this  afternoon  as  I  had  planned," 
I  insisted  quietly. 

"But  how  can  you  go?"  she  returned.  "Don't 
you  see  that  you've  got  to  stay  ?  I  can't  have  those 
strange  men  here  by  themselves ;  I  don't  know  who 
they  are  or  what  they  might  do ;  Frieda  can't  be  up 
here  to  look  after  them,  for  she  has  her  dinner  to 
attend  to;  I'm  obliged  to  go  to  business,  and  you 
will  have  to  stay.  You  understand  how  it  is — 
now  do  be  sensible  about  it." 

I  looked  into  space  and  said  nothing;  so  she  went 
on:  "Have  you  planned  anything  special  for  this 
afternoon,  anything  you  have  to  do?" 

She  was  tolerably  safe  in  asking  that  of  a  green, 
almost  friendless  country  girl,  her  first  week  in  the 
city.  I  merely  wanted  my  time  as  soon  as  it  was  due. 

"But  this  afternoon  isn't  due  you — that  is,  I 
don't  have  to  give  it  to  you.  I  can  make  you  take 
Sunday  instead.  I  have  arranged  it  that  way." 

"I  wouldn't  object  to  having  Thursday  and 
Sunday,  too,"  I  said. 

"What !  Don't  you  want  the  cook  to  have  any 
time?  That's  too  selfish  for  anything!" 

But  it  wasn't  selfish  at  all;  moreover,  the  cook 
and  her  perquisites  had  never  been  further  from  my 
thoughts.  And  anyhow,  as  I  told  Frieda  after- 
ward, whatever  Mrs.  Scharff  arranged  with  the 
cook  was  the  business  of  Mrs.  Scharff  and  the  cook, 
and  no  affair  of  mine.  But  I  did  not  speak  of  this 
to  Mrs.  Scharff,  and  she  continued: 

"  I  have  arranged  my  girls'  time  the  way  it  will  be 
most  convenient  to  me.  If  to-day  was  your  regular 


1 64  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Thursday,  if  you  had  had  your  Sunday  last  week, 
or  if  there  was  anything  to  take  you  out,  I  should 
not  expect  you  to  stay  in.  Any  other  time  I  would 
stay  at  home  myself.  But  you  have  been  here 
only  a  week.  You  don't  need  to  go;  it  isn't 
necessary. 

1  'Now  do  be  reasonable  and  wait  until  Sunday. 
You  may  have  an  extra  evening  this  week,  if  you 
are  so  disappointed,"  she  added  as  I  continued 
silent.  Had  she  asked  for  the  favour  pleasantly, 
as  one  woman  of  another,  I  should  have  granted 
it  in  spite  of  personal  disappointment  or  previous 
infelicities.  But  to  be  told  as  if  I  were  a  young 
child  and  she  my  guardian,  that  she  chose  not  to 
give  me  what  I  had  a  right  to  demand,  that  it 
wasn't  necessary  that  I  have  it,  was  insulting  to  my 
dignity  as  an  adult.  I  was  not  ready  to  say  my 
final  good-by,  so  I  saw  nothing  left  me  but  to  go 
about  my  work,  which  I  did,  looking  sullen  and 
saying  nothing. 

Work  is  a  splendid  reconciler.  In  less  than  an 
hour  I  was  able  to  say,  in  my  second-best  manner, 
that  I  would  "go  out  that  evening  and  Sunday 
afternoon,  thank  you." 

Mrs.  Scharff  was  "so  glad"  I  was  "going  to  be 
sensible,"  and  gave  me  her  voluntary  promise 
never  afterward  to  interfere  with  my  time  off. 

So  I  stayed  in  to  watch  the  workmen.  I  did  it  by 
contentedly  reading  the  newspapers  down  in  the 
mess-room  until  I  heard  sounds  from  the  church 
next  door.  I  had  not  known  of  the  day  appointed 
for  our  nation's  mourning;  I  did  not  know  that  all 
business  was  to  be  suspended  and  memorial  services 
held  for  President  McKinley. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  165 

How  neatly  and  sheepishly  I  had  let  myself  be 
tricked,  to  be  sure !  Even  now  when  I  think  of  it, 
I  am,  to  borrow  from  her  own  vocabulary,  "  devilish 
mad."  For  she  did  not  go  to  business  at  all; 
she  went  to  a  service.  I  am  as  sure  of  it  as  though 
I  had  not  heard  her  deny  it  to  a  department  super- 
intendent who  dined  with  her  a  few  nights  later. 

"I  went  to  B—  -  church,"  said  her  guest,  speak- 
ing of  the  afternoon.  Where  did  you  go  ?" 

"Nowhere;  I  went  to  the  store."  The  surprise 
of  the  guest  led  to  questions  which  would  have 
embarrassed  some  people,  but  Mrs.  Scharff  squirmed 
out  of  her  corners  adroitly  and  promised  to  tell  all 
about  it  later.  Fragments  of  talk,  guilty  looks  and 
the  damaging  character  of  the  accused  may  be  too 
weak  a  support  for  legal  proceedings,  but  it  is 
enough  for  an  arraignment  and  conviction  before  the 
private  judgment  bar  of  Eliza. 


Two  trying,  soul- vexing  days  and  then  three 
days  of  comparative  peace.  No  workmen  on  Satur- 
day, on  Sunday,  nor  yet  on  Monday,  which  was 
Yom  Kippur,  the  yearly  day  of  solemn  fast  and 
atonement  for  the  Hebrew  people,  when  they  work 
not,  nor  those  in  their  houses.  Miss  Emilie  unex- 
pectedly came  from  New  York,  "for  your  sake — 
daddy  dear,"  she  told  her  father,  and  everybody 
went  to  church  all  day.  Frieda  and  I  did  not 
wash;  and  the  butcher  and  the  baker  did  not  take 
orders,  having  been  conferred  with  the  Saturday 
before. 

Frieda  told  me  about  it.  "  Everybody  geht 
zum  Kirche.  Letzt  year  old  voman,  she  go  in 


i66  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

morning,  stay  den  ganzen  Tag,  und  come  home  bei 
sex  Uhr  und  geh'  im  Beit.'  'Oh,  Frieda,  I  so  sick !' 
'nd  she  muss  right  avay  haf  coffee  and  can  no  eat 
dinner." 

"What  made  her  do  that,  if  it  was  going  to 
make  her  sick?"  I  wanted  to  know. 

" '  Meine     selige     Mutter     hat    so     gemacht,' ' 
mimicked  Frieda.     "Everyting  was    selige  Mutter 
that,  so  muss  sie." 

I  remembered  seeing  the  photograph  of  "  selige 
Mutter"  upstairs;  a  good  strong,  not  unintellectual 
or  unlovable  face.  She  must  have  been  much 
superior  to  her  daughter. 

"Do  Miss  Emilie  and  Mr.  Scharff  stay  all  day  im 
Kirche  without  eating  anything?"  I  asked. 

"No,  both  come  fur  lunch.  Boss  say  it  iss  foolish 
to  go  mitout  lunch." 

But  that  year  Mrs.  Scharff  came  home  to  lunch 
with  her  family;  and  for  several  days  after — three 
at  least — she  seemed  unusually  gentle  and  subdued, 
even  affable  at  times,  as  on  the  Sunday  when 
she  agitated  vaccination  in  the  kitchen. 

This  episode  occurred  for  our  diversion  as  we  sat 
at  mess.  The  family  dinner  with  its  garnishing  of 
smallpox  statistics  was  over,  and  Mrs.  Scharff 
rustled  out  in  her  Sunday  gown  that  we  might 
have  a  bit  of  everything  on  the  menu. 

"When  were  you  vaccinated,  Frieda  ?  When  were 
you,  Eliza?"  she  began.  "Do  you  know,  girls, 
there  are  over  two  hundred  cases  of  smallpox  in 
this  city;  and  it's  spreading  fast,"  she  added  excit- 
edly. "There's  an  order  for  everybody  in  the  city 
to  be  vaccinated.  Some  of  the  business  men 
required  it  of  all  their  people  long  ago.  The  doctors 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  167 

have  their  offices  full  all  the  time.  Doctor  B , 

at  X—  -  Street,  vaccinated  six  hundred  people 
this  week.  I  am  going  to  have  Miss  Emilie  and  Mr. 
Scharff  done;  I'd  be  done  myself  only  I  was  vacci- 
nated last  year  and  it  took.  I'll  have  the  doctor 
do  you  girls  when  he  comes  to  do  Miss  Emilie." 
Mrs.  Scharff  looked  interrogatively  at  Frieda,  who 
seemed  willing  enough. 

But  I  have  always  enjoyed  the  distinction  of 
being  different  from  other  people.  When  I  was 
growing  up  I  was  "odd."  Now  that  I  am  grown 
I  am  "original"  and  fully  reconciled  to  eccentricity 
in  that  time  to  come  which  none  of  us  like  to  think 
about.  I  did  not  want  to  be  vaccinated  and  said  so. 

"I — don't  think — I  want  to  be — vaccinated — 
thank  you,"  I  said,  "as  that  sometimes  turns  out  to 
be  as  bad  for  one  as  the  smallpox  itself;  and  I'm 
not  likely  to  get  the  smallpox,  anyhow." 

I  didn't  wonder  she  gasped;  but  she  recovered. 

"Why,  you  can  get  it  on  the  street-cars,  on  the 
street;  you  never  know  when  you're  going  to  run 
into  it,  for  it's  all  about — on  the  nicer  streets, 


even." 


"I'd  rather  have  the  smallpox  than  run  my 
chance  with  vaccination,"  I  repeated  unmoved.  I 
felt  that  my  opportunities  for  contracting  anything 
on  the  streets  were  much  limited. 

"  How  silly  !  How  foolish  you  are  !  Come,  come  ! 
Don't  be  an  idiot !  Why,  the  doctors  are  vaccinat- 
ing themselves.  It's  just  a  little  scratch  on  your 
arm  and  doesn't  hurt  a  bit;  does  it,  Frieda?" 

My  best  efforts  could  not  have  convinced  her  of 
the  nature  of  my  fear  or  its  reality,  so  I  didn't  make 
them.  "It  was  all  a  silly  notion,"  "I  was  an  old 


1 68  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

fogy,"  etc.  No  doubt  she  was  right.  But  when 
people  began  by  and  by  to  die  of  tetanus  and  other 
dread  things,  it  suited  me  very  well  to  remain  an 
"  old  fogy." 

"  If  there  is  an  order  from  the  authorities  to  that 
effect  I  shall  have  to  be  vaccinated  to  stay  in  the 
city.  But  in  that  case  I  can  go  to  my  home  in 
New  England,  and  I  think  I'd  rather.  Though  if 
I  do  decide  to  stay  and  be  vaccinated — I  thank  you 
very  much — but  I  think  I'd  rather  a  friend,  a 
doctor,  did  it." 

Her  lower  jaw  dropped.  I  saw  it.  "Er — have 
you  a  friend  in  the  city  who  is  a  doctor?"  It  was 
a  pounce. 

I  admitted  it,  quite  as  a  matter  of  fact. 

" What's  his  name?"  Her  tongue,  that  well- 
practised  organ,  could  hardly  move  fast  enough. 

"He's  a  woman." 

"Oh!"  There  was  a  distinct  falling  off  of 
interest.  "Who  is  she?" 

"  I  went  to  the  Woman's  Hospital  two  years  ago," 
I  explained  vaguely. 

"Oh !     Have  you  other  friends  in  the  city?" 

"Yes;  a  great  many,  and  very  good  ones,"  I 
answered  warmly. 

"  Oh  !  Well,  when  you  go  out  this  afternoon  you 
talk  it  over  with  your  friends,  see  what  they  say, 
and  decide.  And  do  be  careful  where  you  go,"  was 
her  last  imploring  word.  No,  not  her  last,  for  she 
turned  to  say  in  some  offense :  "  Don't  do  it  just  to 
please  me.  I  only  spoke  of  it  for  your  own  good." 

I  assured  her  that  she  was  very  kind,  and  that  I 
would  surely  obey  that  last  request  faithfully. 

I  did  mention  the  matter  to  my  friends  that 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  169 

afternoon  in  great  detail,  to  their  interest  and 
amusement,  and  to  my  own  increase  of  knowledge. 
There  was  only  a  likelihood  that  such  a  general 
order  for  vaccination  might  be  issued  if  the  disease 
continued  to  spread.  And  the  moral  of  the  story 
is — obvious. 

Whether  it  was  that  I  had  notions  of  my  own  and 
will  enough  to  stick  to  them,  or  the  doctor  friend 
—Mrs.  ScharfFs  son  was  a  doctor  in  New  York,  and 
his  mother  had  a  corresponding  respect  for  the 
profession — I  saw  that  I  had  suddenly  become  a 
person  now,  like  Frieda,  and  an  object  of  curiosity. 

On  Monday  morning  Mrs.  Scharff  wanted  to  know 
when  I  had  lived  in  the  city  before.  I  gave  her  the 
date  of  my  coming.  She  had  thought  I  was  a 
country  girl  who  had  never  lived  in  the  city. 
Possibly,  but  if  so,  erroneously.  My  claim  was 
that  of  a  girl  who  had  just  come  from  living 
out  in  the  country,  without  a  reference  for  like 
service  in  the  city. 

"Oh!" 

On  Tuesday  morning  Mrs.  Scharff  wanted  to  know 
if  I  had  talked  with  my  friends  about  being  vacci- 
nated. What  were  they  going  to  do?  What  had 
I  decided?  But  both  my  friends  and  I  were  still 
undecided. 

And  on  Wednesday  morning  Mrs.  Scharff  wanted 
to  know  if  my  parents  were  both  living.  Had  I 
written  to  them  where  I  was,  and  what  I  was  doing  ? 
Did  they  know  that  I  was  at  her  home?  Did  they 
approve  ? 

"Well,  tell  them,  Eliza,  the  next  time  you  write, 
that  you  are  living  with  a  very  nice  family  who  will 
take  the  best  possible  care  of  you." 


i7o  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

This  display  of  interest  in  my  personality  was  as 
sudden  as  it  was  belated.  Except  to  ask  me  where 
I  spent  my  afternoons  out — she  was  anxious,  I  being 
a  stranger  with  no  friends — she  had  given  me  no 
more  notice  of  that  kind  than  she  was  accustomed 
to  give  her  ashman. 

No,  I  remember  one  other  exception,  which 
Frieda  had  told  me  I  might  expect.  It  dates  from 
the  early  forenoon  of  that  same  vaccination  Sunday. 

"Eliza,"  she  purred,  "if  you  stay  here  and  are  a 
good  girl,  and  do  what's  right,  I'll  make  you  a 
present  of  a  nice  winter  hat." 

I  grinned. 

"Save  you  five  dollars,  Eliza." 

"I  don't  pay  five  dollars  for  my  hats." 

"  No  ?    That's  the  kind  you  get  from  me,  though." 

I  thought  from  the  signs  that  Frieda  might  have 
hinted  my  strong  dislike  for  moods  of  violence.  Not 
that  I  met  with  all  gentleness  from  this  time  on,  for 
Thursday  of  this  same  week  proved  an  occasion  for 
discipline.  I  overslept,  for  the  first  and  last  time 
in  her  house.  It  was  twenty  minutes  to  seven  when 
I  awoke  with  a  guilty  start,  and  after  a  five-minute 
toilet  hurried  down  to  my  work. 

Frieda  had  begun  on  the  silver  as  she  always 
did  on  Friday,  for  all  in  dining-room  use  was  sup- 
posed to  be  cleaned  before  breakfast. 

"She  no  say  it  iss  my  vork,  but  she  expect  me  to 
help;  one  girl  by  self  can  no  do  so  much  before 
breakfist,"  explained  Frieda. 

"I  heard  you  go  downstairs  at  seven  o'clock  this 
morning,"  was  the  acid  greeting  of  my  sour  mistress 
just  out  of  bed,  as  she  took  in  her  tray  of  morning 
coffee  at  quarter  of  eight. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  171 

"Yes'm.     I  overslept  this  morning,"  I  apologized. 

«T » 

"I  won't  have  a  girl  in  my  house  who  comes 
down  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning !"  burst 
in  upon  me  with  thunderous  clap.  "Of  course,  if 
you  don't  get  up  you  can't  get  your  work  done, 
and  here  you  are  at  eight  o'clock  with  the  front  not 
scrubbed,  the  silver  not  cleaned " 

"The  front  is  done,"  I  corrected,  "as  well  as 
some  of  the  silver." 

"How  much  silver,  I  would  like  to  ask?" 

"All  that  will  be  needed  for  breakfast  and  more." 

"Well,  you  didn't  do  it.  You  can't  get  through 
by  looking  for  other  people  to  do  your  work.  And 
you  haven't  done  your  dusting,  I  suppose.  I  expect 
my  chambermaid  to  be  down  at  six  o'clock  every 
morning,  ready  for  work,  save  on  Monday,  when 
she  must  be  up  at  five  with  the  cook.  And  you'll 
have  to  if  you  want  to  stay  here."  Having  so 
finished,  she  slammed  the  door,  without  giving 
me  a  chance  to  say  whether  I  wanted  to  stay. 

If  she  had  not  happened  to  hear  me  go  down 
she  would  not  have  known  the  difference,  for  by 
breakfast  time  I  had  finished  almost  the  usual 
amount  of  work.  But  what  did  that  signify  ? 

"Remember,"  she  resumed  spitefully,  as  she  stood 
watching  me  after  breakfast,  "every  bit  of  the  silver 
upstairs  must  be  done  this  morning. 

"You  haven't  much  time  to  monkey  with  that 
now;  I  want  you  upstairs  pretty  quick,"  she  snapped 
again,  when  I  came  down  with  a  big  tray  full  of  the 
stuff  from  her  room.  "And  when  do  you  propose 
to  do  Miss  Emilie's  silver?" 

"When  I  do  her  room." 


172  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Oh!" 

"When  are  you  going  to  get  your  dusting  done?" 

"After  I  do  the  other  morning  work." 
;     "Oh!" 

Mrs.  Scharff  had  the  misfortune  to  underrate  the 
effect  of  her  tempers  on  other  people,  and  the  amount 
of  time  needed  for  recovery. 

"Well,  Eliza,  I  suppose  you  have  made  up  your 
mind  to  spend  the  winter  with  us,"  she  said  one  noon, 
as  I  set  her  lunch  before  her. 

"No,  I  haven't,"  I  answered  promptly. 

"And  why  not  ?"  she  returned  quickly. 

It  was  one  of  the  few  joys  of  my  life  to  astonish 
her. 

"You  have  been  here  two  weeks,  and  you  know 
all  about  the  work  and  our  ways  ?" 

Hateful  as  her  very  presence  was  coming  to  be, 
I  could  not  tell  her  so.  So  I  said,  "I  don't  think  I 
like  living  out  very  well;  I'm  only  doing  it  until  I 
get  a  chance  at  something  else." 

"Why,  what  else  can  you  do?"  as  if  the  very 
idea  were  preposterous. 

"I  did  do  office-work  once,  and  I  shall  do  it  again 
as  soon  as  I  get  a  chance." 

"  You  did  office-work,"  with  contemptuous  wonder. 
"Where?" 

"In  a  publishing  office." 

But  she  doubted.  There  is  a  class  of  girls  in 
domestic  employment,  the  ambitious  ones  and 
the  discontented,  who  are  always  yearning  after 
office-work. 

"Then  I  can't  depend  on  you  to  stay  through 
the  winter?" 

"No'm." 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  173 

"Do  you  think  you  are  likely  to  get  such  a  place 
as  you  want  very  soon?" 

" Perhaps,  perhaps  not;  I  do  not  know.  I  heard 
about  one  the  other  day  and  I'm  going  to  see  about 
it  this  week.  I  was  recommended  for  it  by  my  old 
employer." 

Her  blue  eyes  opened  wider. 

"Then  there  is  a  chance  that  you  will  leave  right 
away?" 

"There  is  a  chance." 

"And  when  am  I  to  know?"  with  an  injured  air. 

"As  soon  as  I  do.     I  could  hardly  tell  you  earlier." 

"So  you'd  leave  me  without  warning,  would 
you?" 

Just  at  that  period  it  would  have  done  my  soul 
good  to  do  just  that  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Frieda. 
Frieda  did  double  work  when  there  was  no  upstairs 
girl.  But  I  answered: 

"I  could  no  doubt  arrange  to  give  you  the  usual 
week's  notice." 

"I  can't  have  this;  I  must  know  that  my  girls  are 
going  to  stay  with  me  the  season  through.  I  have 
my  business  to  look  after  every  day,  and  how  am 
I  to  know  that  you  won't  be  wanting  to  leave  in  the 
middle  of  the  season  when  I  can't  stay  at  home  to 
bother  with  a  new  girl;  or  when  the  girls  have  all 
come  in  from  the  country  and  taken  places  for  the 
winter,  so  that  I  can't  get  anybody.  I  am  not  like 
other  women,  you  see.  I  can't  be  uncertain  about 
this,  as  I  could  if  I  were  at  home  all  the  time.  I 
must  know  definitely." 

"Then,"  said  I,  generously  putting  myself  in  her 
place,  "it  is,  of  course,  better  for  you  to  get  another 
girl  right  away,  and  you'd  better,  for  I  shall  always 


174  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 


be  uncertain.  Whether  I  get  this  other  work  or 
not,  I  will  not  agree  to  stay  through  the  winter." 

She  stifled  a  gasp  at  such  audacity. 

"Very  well;  then  I  shall  look  out  right  away  for 
another  girl !" 

"Yes.  And  I  am  to  consider  that  my  engage- 
ment with  you  closes  on  Thursday,  with  the  end  of 
my  week?" 

"No.  You  are  to  consider  that  your  engagement 
with  me  closes  when  I  get  a  new  girl." 

I  considered  myself  dismissed  from  her  presence. 

Frieda  was  notified  immediately,  while  I  was  gone 
on  a  trumped-up  errand  upstairs. 

"Mrs.  Scharff  say  you  going  to  leave,"  said 
Frieda,  with  a  hurt  and  sorrowful  air. 

"Yes,  so  it  seems,"  I  answered;  "and  I'm  not 
sorry,  except  to  leave  you." 

"  Mrs.  Scharff  say  to  me  she  sorry." 

Then  I  told  Frieda  what  each  of  us  had  said,  and 
how  and  when  it  had  all  come  about. 

"  It's  true,  Frieda,  about  that  office  place.  I  did 
get  a  letter,  and  I  am  going  to  see  about  it.  Very 
likely  it  will  all  come  to  nothing.  But  there  are 
other  women  who  hire  chambermaids.  If  there 
weren't,  I  would  not  promise  to  stay  here  all 
winter." 

Frieda  understood,  but  she  groaned,  like  the 
"pius  ^Eneas"  ab  imo  pectore.  "All  to  go  over 
again,  and  she  so  terrible  mit  new  girl !  Venn 
you  go?" 

"  She  didn't  say;  that  \s,  I  go  when  she  gets  a  new 
girl." 

Frieda  took  heart.  "She'll  have  you  stay, 
maybe." 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  175 

"She  may  suit  herself  about  that,"  I  returned, 
lapsing  into  French. 

IV 

Frieda  was  astute.  Three  years  of  Mrs.  Scharff, 
upstairs  and  downstairs — for  Frieda  had  been 
coaxed  into  the  kitchen  because  cooks  were  scarce 
and  chambermaids  plenty — had  helped  her  to  a 
pretty  accurate  knowledge  of  her  woman,  so  that  she 
rarely  made  a  mistake  and  looked  only  relieved 
when  I  told  her  that  Mrs.  ScharfE  had  reconsidered 
letting  me  go. 

"I  have  been  thinking  it  over,  Eliza,"  said  that 
worthy,  almost  shyly,  one  or  two  mornings  after  our 
talk — "  about  letting  you  go  away.  I  think, 
rather  than  get  in  a  new  girl  right  away,  I 
will  wait  until  you  see  about  this  other  work  you 
have  heard  of.  You  aren't  certain  to  get  it,  I 
suppose,  and  might  only  go  from  here  to  live  out 
again.  Then  it  would  be  more  sensible,  I  think,  for 
you  to  stay  here  until  you  know.  Don't  you  think 
so?" 

"Perhaps,"  I  answered,  indifferently;  "only  I 
thought  you  wanted  a  girl  who  would  be  sure  to 
stay  through  the  winter.  I  am  not  likely  to  do  that, 
anyway." 

Mrs.  Scharff's  stability  of  purpose  was  not  really 
of  the  weathercock  sort.  Sometimes  overpresump- 
tion  loses  one  the  vantage  which  one  must  work  to 
regain.  Unfortunately,  I  rather  enjoyed  having 
the  vantage  myself. 

"You  mean,"  she  suggested,  "that  you  will  look 
for  other  positions  if  this  one  you  have  in  mind 
fails  you?" 


176  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Yes;  or  I  may  go  back  to  Freeland;  or,  what  is 
more  likely  yet,  go  home." 

Such  indifference  to  her  good  will  could  but 
appear  most  astonishing,  unless  I  were  independent 
by  resources  which  she  knew  not  of;  or  unless  I 
thought  I  was,  which  was  the  same  in  effect.  Mrs. 
Scharff  considered  again. 

"Is  the  reason  you  gave  for  going  the  only  one 
you  have?  Would  you  be  willing  to  stay  through 
the  winter  if  you  heard  of  nothing  better?" 

"No,"  I  said  decidedly,  "I  will  not  live  in  a  place 
where  I  can  have  so  little  time  to  myself.  One  after- 
noon in  ten  days  is  not  enough." 

"  Oh,  but  you  have  more  than  that  here,"  grandly. 
"Why,  you  have  a  Thursday  one  week,  and  the 
next  week  you  have  a  Sunday,  and  then  you  have 
an  evening  besides!" 

"Yes,"  I  corrected;  "and  from  a  Thursday  of  one 
week  to  the  Sunday  of  the  next  week  is  ten  days ; 
and  the  evening  here  is  only  two  hours,  and  amounts 
to  just  nothing.  I  can't  go  anywhere  or  do  anything 
in  two  hours." 

"You  can  sew,  or  read,  or  write  letters,"  she 
suggested. 

"I'm  too  sleepy,  after  I  have  worked  all  day,  to 
do  any  of  those  things.  And  anyway,  when  I  have 
time  off  I  want  to  breathe  out-of-doors  and  see  more 
of  the  world  than  I  can  see  from  over  the  back-yard 
fence.  It  is  necessary  for  my  health." 

She  admitted  the  justice  of  my  desire.  "But  I 
thought  I  gave  as  much  time  as  anybody  ?"  she  said, 
after  another  pause — an  observation  for  which  I 
hope  she  has  sought  forgiveness  ere  this. 

"I  never  heard  of  any  one  who  gave  so  little,"  I 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  177 

replied.  "I've  always  had  every  Thursday  and 
every  other  Sunday,  and  that's  little  enough." 

But  Mrs.  Scharff  did  not  see  how  a  girl  could  get 
through  her  work  if  she  went  out  so  often.  I  must 
have  worked  where  there  were  more  than  two  girls. 
She  really  couldn't  arrange  it  so  in  her  house,  with 
only  two  girls. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Thursday,  Friday,  Saturday 
and  Sunday  afternoons  could  have  been  divided 
between  Frieda  and  me  with  no  loss  to  her  house 
—except  in  times  of  extra  stress  such  as  house- 
cleaning,  or  visitors.  Mrs.  Scharff  knew  it,  too, 
else  why  should  she  have  asked  again  after  a  third 
and  longer  pause: 

" Eliza,  would  you  be  willing  to  stay  if  I  gave  you 
more  time — as  much  as  you've  been  used  to  ?  The 
chambermaid  might,  I  suppose,  go  out  any  after- 
noon in  the  latter  part  of  the  week,  if  it 
were  not  that  I  couldn't  allow  the  cook  an  equal 
privilege." 

But  my  personal  independence  was  declared, 
and  I  stood  obstinate,  through  a  series  of  wheed- 
lings,  cajolings  and  arguments. 

"Have  you  thought,  Eliza,"  said  Mrs.  Scharff 
one  day,  "that  if  you  take  an  office  position  you 
will  have  to  pay  your  board?" 

"Oh,  yes;  but  I  don't  object  to  paying  board," 
I  replied  cheerfully. 

"No,"  laughing,  "you  don't  object  to  paying 
board  if — but  maybe  you  won't  have  enough  to 
eat,  and  winter  is  coming  on,  and  you  are  sure  to 
be  cold  and  maybe  sick." 

"I've  boarded  before  and  been  very  comfortable," 
I  replied. 


i78  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"How  much  money  do  you  expect  to  get,  in  this 
office-work?" 

My  lowest  figure  seemed  to  be  satisfactory. 

"But  you  don't  know  what  sort  of  a  place  you 
may  get  into !" 

I  observed  that  my  eye  teeth  were. now  quite 
through. 

She  laughed.  "Well,  yes,  I  hope  so.  But  girls 
do  come  to  grief  all  the  time;  and  they  don't  any 
of  them  think  they're  going  to.  They  all  think 
they  know  how  to  look  out  for  themselves." 

"I  don't  need  to  be  foolish  because  other  girls  are." 

She  supposed  not,  meekly.  But  after  this, 
the  family  was  occasionally  entertained  at  dinner 
with  a  hair-raising  yarn  about  some  poor  working- 
girl  of  yellow  journal  fame.  These  stories  usually 
began,  I  noticed,  with  the  carving  of  the  roast, 
which  was  very  nice  for  me,  for  then  I  was  sure  to 
get  the  whole. 

Miss  Emilie,  however,  did  not  enjoy  these  stories. 

"Now,  mother,  what  is  the  good  of  going  over  all 
that?"  the  daughter  would  remonstrate;  and  Mr. 
Scharff  would  look  mystified. 

"But  it's  all  true,"  Mrs.  Scharff  would  say,  "and 
only  shows  that  a  girl  can't  know  what  is  going  to 
happen  to  her." 

True  or  not,  these  stories  so  affected  my  taste 
that  I  found  the  occasional  smallpox  alarms  too 
tame  to  be  interesting. 

The  winning  power  of  fine  feathers  was  tried 
next. 

"Clothes  cost  such  a  lot  of  money,  Eliza !" 

That  had  long  been  one  of  my  griefs. 

"Wouldn't   you   like   to   get   them   for   nothing, 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  179 

Eliza,  and  then  you  could  have  your  money  for 
other  things?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  I  answered  readily.  "I  always  grudge 
what  money  I  spend  for  clothes.  Only  I'm  not 
open  to  bribes." 

She  swallowed  some  disgust  and  explained  that 
she  didn't  mean  bribes,  but  presents.  Didn't  I 
like  presents? 

"Yes,  if  they  come  from  my  friends  and  mean 
something;  but  I  don't  care  enough  about  them  to 
give  up  a  plan  that  seems  best  for  me,  in  order 
to  get  them." 

Then  it  was  another  tack. 

"What  made  you  begin  to  live  out,  Eliza,  if  you 
can  do  office-work?" 

Reasons  of  health  and  finance,  I  told  her.  "You 
can't  always  see  the  chance  you'd  like,  right  away 
when  you'd  want  it." 

That  was  true.  Did  I  know,  too,  that  I  had 
been  most  sensible  to  do  as  I  had  done  ?  And  that 
one  could  really  do  very  well  for  oneself  along  this 
very  line,  despised  though  it  was?  She  herself 
had  once  had  a  smart  young  nurse  girl  whom  she 
placed  with  some  wealthy  connections  in  New  York, 
when  her  children  grew  up  and  were  sent  to  school. 
The  girl,  who  owed  to  Mrs.  ScharfFs  teaching  all 
she  knew,  had  been  retained  in  this  wealthy  family, 
in  one  capacity  or  another,  until  now  she  did  nothing 
all  the  year  around  but  draw  her  handsome  salary 
and  receive  presents  of  sealskin  coats  and  diamonds. 
No — for  three  months  in  the  year  she  did  open  and 
direct  a  summer  home  to  which  nobody  ever  came. 
So  I  saw  what  might  happen  to  me,  if  I  should  decide 
to  keep  on  with  my  present  work. 


i8o  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

Or,  Mrs.  Scharff  herself  expected  to  go  abroad 
after  awhile  and  she  would  like  a  companion  to  go 
with  her.  How  would  I  like  that  ? 

But  none  of  these  things  moved  me,  nor  would 
they,  I  think,  had  I  dedicated  my  life  to  the  domestic 
professions.  What  I  cannot  earn  I  do  not  want. 
Largess  is  no  fit  substitute  for  the  adequate  wage 
of  independent  labour;  nor  are  the  material  con- 
ditions and  effects  of  one's  work  the  only  ones  worth 
considering. 

How  much  easier  it  was  to  get  along  with  Mrs. 
Scharff  when  I  had  her  "on  the  hip !"  though  she 
was  difficult  enough  as  long  as  the  workmen  stayed. 
It  was  grand  fireworks  that  noon  when  she  came 
home  to  find  her  picture  moulding  painted  in  three 
different  shades,  a  few  white  daubs  on  her  freshly 
papered  wall,  and  a  few  black  marks  on  the  virgin 
purity  of  her  newly  painted  bathtub,  where  the 
apprentice  boy  had  rested  his  pail  while  he  drew 
some  water. 

My  eyes,  how  did  the  heathen  rage  !  She  stormed 
at  the  apprentice  boy  until  he  had  wished  he  had 
been  a  Hottentot,  who  had  never  seen  a  bathtub. 
He  came  an  hour  late  next  day,  and  waited  round 
downstairs  another  half  hour,  wishing  he  might  take 
a  horsewhipping  and  go  home.  One  of  the  men 
was  berated  until  Mrs.  Scharff  herself  was  ashamed. 
Yes ;  for  as  he  went  out  to  lunch  she  hoped  that  he 
would  not  have  such  a  fussy  woman  to  contend  with 
the  next  place  he  worked.  He  replied  from  half-way 
downstairs  that  he  "  couldn't  have  a  worse." 
Impudence,  of  course,  and  so  reported  to  the 
company,  which  discharged  him  immediately,  and 
we  never  saw  him  more. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  181 

None  of  the  men  came  back  that  afternoon  despite 
their  assurance  that  they  were  "just  going  out  to 
get  a  bite."  Peremptory  telephone  calls  upon  the 
office  did  not  bring  them.  The  third  man  told 
Frieda  when  he  went  out  that  he  was  sick.  I 
haven't  a  doubt  that  he  spoke  truly. 

The  next  day  the  "boss,"  as  Frieda  called  the 
unhappy  man  who  had  the  contract  for  the  Scharff 
repairs,  made  his  fifth  or  six  solicited  visit  to  the 
house.  I  was  washing  plaster  off  the  baseboards 
and  window-casings  in  the  sitting-room.  The  task 
was  somewhat  prematurely  ordered,  but  it  gave  me 
a  seat  in  the  orchestra  circle  to  a  dramatic  episode 
of  some  interest,  if  I  may  speak  so  giddily.  But  I 
really  was  giddy  at  the  time,  when  the  outpourings 
from  the  vials  of  wrath  went  by  my  head  to 
another's. 

It  was  my  impression  that  the  "boss"  did  not 
enjoy  the  performance  any  better  than  his  men  had 
enjoyed  similar  ones.  Frieda  said  that  he  left  the 
house  in  a  hurry  with  a  very  strong  expletive  on 
his  lips.  If  a  man  has  done  the  worst  piece  of  work 
a  woman  ever  had  done  in  her  house,  he  does  not 
like  to  be  told  so  in  those  words;  especially  if 
honestly  in  his  soul  he  thinks  it  very  fair. 

But  the  "boss"  kept  his  temper  and  gentlemanly 
bearing  so  long  as  he  was  with  Mrs.  Scharif,  praised 
the  effect  of  the  room  (which  ought  to  have  flattered, 
seeing  that  it  was  her  taste  rather  than  his  own),  the 
excellence  of  the  paper-hanging,  thought  the  little 
spatters  of  white  plaster  would  rub  off  very  easily 
(as  in  truth  they  did),  and  tried  to  smile  good- 
naturedly  while  the  disobedient  sins  of  his  mechanics 
were  numbered. 


1 82  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"But  you  can't  tell  a  mechanic  what  to  do,  Mrs. 
Scharff,"  deprecated  the  young  man. 

Whereat  she  took  fire,  and  remarked  that  she  had 
been  a  business  woman  for  more  than  thirty  years 
and  knew  something  of  methods  of  work  and 
working  people,  and  that  never  in  all  that  time  had 
she  been  obliged  to  take  from  a  mechanic  such 
impudence  as  she  had  taken  from  his  men;  and 
that  if  she  was  a  woman,  she  could  tell  the  young 
man  who  had  painted  her  moulding  that  if  he  had 
mixed  paint  enough  for  the  whole  at  once  his  work 
would  have  been  of  one  shade  when  he  got  through, 
instead  of  a  series  of  patches. 

"Yes,"  said  the  contractor,  "that  is  so."  And 
presently,  in  a  day  or  two,  the  one  workman  came 
back,  subdued  and  alone,  to  do  his  work  over  again. 

Everybody  was  relieved  when  he  went  finally,  for 
he  was  the  last.  Frieda  said  it  was  always  that 
way  when  there  were  workmen  in  the  house;  and 
James,  who  had  been  eighteen  or  twenty  years  her 
upholsterer,  told  me  that  the  trades  were  full  of  men 
who  had  tried  Mrs.  Scharff  once  and  had  enough. 

I  had  had  enough,  too,  and  I  was  just  broken  to 
harness.  She  had  no  right,  in  this  world  of  toil,  to 
be  so  difficult  to  work  for;  no  one  has,  while  milder 
means  continue  more  efficacious.  But  she  was  as 
she  was,  and  I  was  as  I  was ;  my  job  wasn't  finished 
yet,  and  we  rubbed  along  awhile  longer,  in  what 
manner  may  be  seen. 

Usually  the  first  thing  Mrs.  Scharff  did  when  she 
got  up  in  the  morning  was  to  open  her  door  and 
find  me  dusting  the  bannister,  unless  it  happened 
to  be  on  Friday,  when  I  also  swept  the  halls  and 
stairs  before  breakfast.  Sometimes  she  said  good- 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  183 

morning  and  sometimes  she  didn't,  but  always  she 
began  on  the  shorter  catechism: 

"What  are  you  doing,  Eliza?" 

"  Dusting  the  hall,"  I  would  answer  from  beneath 
her  very  nose,  just  as  though  she  really  couldn't  see 
for  herself. 

"Have  you  done  the  front?" 

"Yes'm." 

Or  if  it  was  Saturday:  "Did  you  dust  overhead 
in  the  vestibule?  Did  you  have  the  step-ladder 
out  ?  Did  you  chamois  the  doors  all  over  ?  Did  you 
polish  the  silver?  Did  you  wash  off  the  parlour 
window-sills?  Did  you  clean  the  gate-bell?  Did 
you  scrub  the  pavement?" 

To  each  I  would  answer  "Yes'm." 

"Have  you  done  the  dining-room?" 

"Not  yet." 

Until  the  very  last  of  my  stay  I  was  put  through 
some  variation  of  this  every  morning  and  at  intervals 
during  the  day,  as  occasion  offered.  But  when  more 
stressful  times  came,  the  time  of  housecleaning, 
for  instance,  which  broke  the  back  of  my  cheerful 
endurance,  I  grew  tired  of  so  many  foolish 
questions. 

Being  habituated,  I  didn't  mind  being  watched, 
if  that  pleased  her,  any  more  than  I  minded  her 
favourite  test  of  whether  I  had  dusted. 

"  Eliza,  did  you  dust  my  desk?  Did  you  chamois 
the  bannister  rail?" 

If  I  said  yes,  she  immediately  drew  her  flat  hand 
over  the  surface ;  if  her  hand  was  dusty — as  it  was 
quite  likely  to  be  when  the  windows  had  been  opened 
or  when  there  had  been  a  good  deal  of  passing  since 
I  went  my  rounds — it  was  held  up  before  me. 


184  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Look,  Eliza,  it's  black !  Get  your  duster  and 
do  it  over  again." 

Whatever  my  task,  it  was  always  dropped  at 
her  bidding.  But  that  uplifted  dusty  hand  so 
rapidly  lost  its  interest  that  in  a  week  it  drew 
barely  a  glance,  never  a  pang  of  contrition. 

The  catechetical  habit,  however,  irritated  to  the 
end.  It  was  the  tone  and  manner  of  the  questions 
quite  as  much  as  the  questions  themselves;  more- 
over, the  very  presence  of  the  questioner  had  become 
hateful.  When  she  was  nervous — which  was  always 
upon  the  least  departure  from  the  regular  routine — 
or  when  she  wanted  work  done,  she  had  no  mercy 
upon  the  frailties  of  human  flesh.  I  knew  I  was 
being  imposed  upon,  and  went  about  feeling  abused 
and  ugly,  as  one  does  sometimes  when  one  is  growing. 

I  have  known  her  to  ask  the  third  time  what 
I  was  doing,  and  then  retire  without  being  heard. 
And  sometimes,  when  she  really  insisted  upon 
knowing  if  I  was  using  a  damp  chamois,  as  per  order, 
I  gave  her  such  an  ill-natured  snarl  of  a  "yes"  as 
was  discouraging  to  further  converse. 

"If  she  can't  trust  me  after  two  weeks,  let  her 
open  her  eyes  and  look;  and  then  if  she  can't  tell 
whether  I  have  passed  that  way,  she  doesn't  need 
to  know." 

So  I  said  to  myself  and  so  I  said  to  Frieda.  But 
I  didn't  say  so  to  Mrs.  Scharff,  though  often  I  had 
the  impudent  speech  all  ready.  Because,  when  it 
really  came  to  the  point,  I  couldn't. 

But  she  deserved  worse.  For  eight  consecutive 
days  I  was  driven  to  the  last  limit  of  my  strength. 
All  day  long  I  was  hurried  from  one  thing  to  another. 

"How  near  through  with  that  window  are  you, 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  185 

Eliza?  Hurry,  so  you  can  get  at  the  cleaning  of 
that  paint. 

"Are  you  nearly  through  ?  How  much  more  have 
you  to  do?  Well,  don't  waste  any  time;  I'm  in  a 
hurry  to  get  the  things  dusted  and  put  back. 

"Now  hurry  with  the  beds,  for  I  want  you  up  in 
Miss  Emilie's  study.  That  must  be  finished  this 
afternoon. 

"I'm  sorry  I  can't  stay  to  direct  you,  but  I  have 
to  go  to  business  to-day.  But" — the  usual  detailed 
directions — "I  must  trust  you  to  use  your  own 
judgment.  Work  just  as  hard  as  you  can,  won't 
you,  so  to  get  done  by  to-night." 

Mrs.  Scharff  was  quite  gracious  when  she  came 
home  in  the  evening,  after  the  morning  of  this 
latter  speech.  About  half -past  nine  I  went  for  some 
ice-cream — primarily,  I  think,  from  the  bountiful 
portion  that  was  sent  downstairs  again,  as  a  special 
treat  to  Frieda,  the  man  who  came  that  evening  to 
paint  the  dining-room  floor,  and  myself.  It  was 
not  at  all  unusual  for  me  to  be  sent  for  cream  in  the 
evenings.  I  enjoyed  it — I  always  enjoy  ice-cream— 
but  there  were  few  evenings  that  fall  when  my 
choice  wouldn't  have  been  to  go  without,  rather  than 
walk  two  squares  after  it.  Often  in  starting,  after  a 
brief  rest,  my  feet  would  be  without  sensation,  so 
that  for  the  first  block  I  staggered  as  one  bibulous. 

"Come  down  as  early  as  you  can  to-morrow,  so 
as  not  to  lose  any  time  in  the  morning,  Eliza," 
was  my  good-night.  It  was  my  usual  good-night, 
and  I  had  been  getting  down  closer  and  closer  upon 
Frieda's  heels. 

11 W arum  so  fruh  ?"  asked  my  friend, 

"  Sie  sagte  das  ich  muss" 


i86  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"  Sie  sagte  /  sie  sagte  /  Kann  you  no  vork  enough 
bei  day,  but  you  muss  kill  youself  to  get  down 
before  light?"  Frieda  sputtered  with  generous  ire. 

What,  indeed,  was  the  use  of  setting  my  sore,  stiff 
muscles  to  work  over  cold  dirty  marble  while  it 
was  yet  gray  dawn?  I  arose  later  for  awhile,  and 
tried  to  save  my  strength.  It  was  too  exhausting 
to  "scrub  real  hard."  I  scrubbed  lightly.  It  was 
too  hard  to  scrub  the  marble  facing  every  day.  I 
washed  it  once  in  awhile  in  sections.  The  tall 
step-ladder  was  too  tall  to  be  gotten  out  of  the  cellar 
every  Saturday.  I  reached  as  far  as  I  comfortably 
could  from  the  short  one,  and  called  enough.  And 
occasionally  Mrs.  Scharff  waited  on  my  movements. 

The  day  when  we  cleaned  the  parlour,  for  instance, 
she  came  out  from  her  own  unusually  early  breakfast. 

"Have  you  finished  your  breakfast,  Eliza  ?" 

"No,  I  haven't  yet;  I'm  still  eating,"  I  answered, 
as  in  truth  I  was. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  this  morning  that 
you  eat  your  breakfast  so  late?" 

"The  regular  morning  work,"  I  replied. 

"It  iss  no  late;  it  iss  girls'  time  for  breakfist," 
said  Frieda,  who  was  sitting  opposite  me. 

"Oh,  is  it?  Well,  come  into  the  parlour  as  soon 
as  you're  through,  Eliza,  so  we  can  begin." 

I  assented,  but  in  a  very  few  minutes  Mrs.  Scharff 
was  back  again  to  see  if  I  hadn't  finished.  "Hurry, 
can't  you,  Eliza;  you  see  you're  keeping  me." 

"Why  don't  you  begin  with  Mary,"  suggested 
Frieda  and  I  together ;  for  Mary  had  just  come. 

"Why,  yes,  I  can  do  that,  I  suppose,"  and  the 
two  moved  off,  taking  their  implements  with  them. 

Frieda  and  I  looked  untranslatable  looks  at  each 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  187 

other.     "She  can  no  let  you  eat  for  'the  parlour! 
the  parlour !'  "  said  Frieda  disgustedly. 

When  finally  I  did  go  to  the  parlour  at  my  leisure, 
all  the  dearest  gods  from  that  holy  of  holies  were 
sitting  out  in  the  hall.  Mrs.  Scharff  was  moving 
grandly  about,  duster  in  hand,  in  white  negligee  and 
uncombed  hair — such  was  her  eagerness  to  get  to 
work — directing  Mary;  and  Mary,  if  twinkles  in 
the  eyes  are  any  sign,  was  quite  awake  to  the  pleasing 
features  of  the  occasion. 

It  was,  "Oh,  Mary!  be  careful  of  that  mirror, 
won't  you  !  It  was  broken  for  me  once  by  a  woman 
we  had  to  clean,  and  it  cost  seven  hundred  dollars 
to  get  another  one  put  in." 

i '  Oh,  Eliza !  don't  you  know  how  to  carry  a 
damp  chamois  in  this  room?  Wring  it  very  dry, 
and  hold  a  cloth  under  it  with  your  other  hand — 
so.  You'll  ruin  the  carpet  if  you  get  a  single 
drop  of  water  on  it. 

"Here,  Eliza,  leave  that  and  wipe  off  this  sofa 
with  this  clean  duster. 

"Oh,  haven't  you  finished  that  yet?  Well,  come 
here  and  do  this  now.  Be  careful  of  that  cabinet  J 
That  glass  cost  seventy-five  dollars." 

But  Mary  and  I  moved  with  supernatural  care, 
spread  sheets  to  walk  on  when  we  cleaned,  and 
broke  nothing — which  was  a  marvel,  for  the  presence 
of  Mrs.  Scharff  was  enough  to  shake  the  steadiest 
hand — and  thanked  our  patron  saints  when  it  was 
declared  finished  and  the  door  shut  behind  us. 

Next  on  the  programme  was  Miss  Emilie's  "  study," 
which  had  been  the  dumping-ground  for  all  the 
sitting-room  furniture  during  the  late  upheaval 
Mary  was  a  jolly  sort  to  work  with — a  little  curious 


1 88  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

perhaps,  but  that  didn't  matter,  since  all  the 
chiffonier  drawers  were  locked  and  none  of  the  big 
pasteboard  boxes  squealed  on  being  punched. 

"The  study  room"  was  softly  repeated  in  imi- 
tation. 

"What  do  you  suppose  she  studies?"  I  asked. 
For  the  air  of  the  room  as  its  appointments  gradu- 
ally took  their  wonted  place  was  anything  but 
studious,  though  it  could  have  belonged  to  none 
but  a  newly  fledged  college  girl. 

Mary  shook  her  head  and  looked  waggish.  "She 
study  love,  to  write  letters  to  beau,  and  go  to  New 
York." 

The  answer  seemed  most  pat,  but  my  enjoyment 
was  silent,  for  Miss  Emilie  was  just  coming  up  the 
stairs  to  direct  about  the  ornaments.  Miss  Emilie  had 
occasion  not  long  after  to  reprove  Mary  for  a  slight 
bit  of  carelessness.  She  did  it  very  gently,  but 
Mary's  professional  pride  was  touched;  she  flushed, 
being  ashamed,  and  said  not  a  word. 

Save  for  those  two  days  of  Mary  "die  Irishe"  and 
a  little  help  from  the  general  utility  man,  Frieda 
and  I  did  the  regular  work  and  cleaned  that  big 
house  from  top  to  bottom  in  ten  days.  I  must 
not  forget,  though,  that  we  had  Miss  Emilie's  help 
on  the  ornaments. 

Mrs.  Scharfl  never  before  got  through  her  house- 
cleaning  so  quickly,  so  easily  or  with  so  little  outside 
help.  It  was  never  better  done,  either,  a  fact 
of  which  she  was  satisfied  when  she  made  this  half- 
gleeful  boast  of  hers.  May  I  be  pardoned  for  hoping 
that  such  fortune  may  never  again  happen  her  way  ? 
The  beginning,  of  course,  was  made  in  the  sitting- 
room,  and  on  a  Wednesday  afternoon;  Frieda's  day 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  189 

out,  and  five  days  before  "die  Irishe"  appeared 
among  us. 

"What  have  you  to  do  this  afternoon,  Eliza?" 
asked  Mrs.  Scharff  after  lunch. 

Having  got  up  unusually  early  and  worked 
unusually  hard  that  morning,  it  being  the  first 
after  the  workmen's  final  leave,  I  had  no 
regular  left-overs  to  report.  I  felt  no  yearning 
to  do  acrobatic  feats  on  a  second-story  window-sill, 
though  I  did  them  all  the  afternoon,  cleaning 
the  whole  long  summer's  dust  from  the  outside 
blinds.  It  was  a  dirty  job,  and  I  went  at  it  in  the 
hopelessly  weary  way  of  people  who  feel  that  they 
are  abused. 

Julie,  who  was  over  in  her  best  bib  and  tucker 
waiting  for  her  Aunt  Frieda — they  were  going 
shopping — spoke  to  me  about  it  in  her  queer 
emphatic  English,  every  syllable  of  which  came  out 
not  unlike  a  military  salute.  Julie  was  chamber- 
maid for  a  member  of  the  same  congregation  as 
Mrs.  Scharff,  and  bore  always  a  chip  on  her  shoulder, 
being  zealous  for  the  rights  of  all  serving-maids. 
Frieda  said  she  talked  too  much. 

"Vash  die  outside  of  die  vindow  shutters!  Vat 
for  you  do  dat  ?  Veil,  you  are  a  fool !  I  vould  not. 
You  haf  done  your  vork  for  to-day  effer  since  early 
dis  morning  and  you  must  do  more  to-night.  I 
vould  now  rest  if  I  vere  you." 

"How  would  you  get  out  of  it,  then?" 

"I  shust  vould  not  do  it." 

"  Yah,  you  would,  too,  Julie,"  interrupted  Frieda, 
"if  Mrs.  Scharff  told  you." 

"No,  I  vould  not;  if  she  said  anyting  to  me  venn 
she  come  home  I  vould  say :  *  Do  dose  shutters  ?  No, 


1 90  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

I  did  not  do  dose  shutters.  I  do  not  haf  time  to 
vash  outside  shutters.'" 

Julie  was  a  fair,  buxom  girl,  upon  whom  Mrs. 
Scharfl  cast  longing  looks.  But  Julie  had  a  better 
place;  only  three  in  the  family,  "six  o'clock  dinner 
every  night  reg'lar  " — as  Frieda  said — every  week 
an  afternoon  and  every  other  week  a  Sunday,  and 
five  dollars  a  week  for  wages.  She  had  got  only 
four  dollars  until  somebody  had  tried  to  entice  her 
with  an  extra  one,  and  then  her  wages  had  been 
raised  to  keep  her. 

"Venn  she  da  und  I  hier,  so  can  ve  go  together 
out,"  said  Frieda. 

And  Julie  could  not  be  persuaded. 

James  was  said  to  be  expected  the  next  morning, 
Thursday,  and  Mrs.  Scharff  was  about  early  to  help 
and  direct.  I  wasted  much  valuable  time  grasping 
the  bottom  of  the  steps  while  she  mounted  to  the  top 
to  wipe  off  stray  plaster  splashes  from  the  moulding. 
It  grew  late  and  James  did  not  come. 

"  Isn't  he  the  meanest  thing  to  put  me  off  this  way  ? 
If  I  could  get  somebody  else  in  this  morning,  I 
would;  it  would  serve  him  just  right,  too." 

"Perhaps  he  can't  come,"  I  said. 

"Huh !  Can't !  He  can  if  he  wants  to.  I  told 
him  I  wanted  him  here  on  Thursday  morning  at 
eight  o'clock.  I'll  give  him  the  devil  when  he 
does  come.  I'll  show  him." 

James  did  not  get  that  particular  devil  that  day. 
Events  marched  on  without  him.  A  general  utility 
man  who  happened  around  was  pressed  into  service. 
The  floor  linen  was  untacked,  its  dirt  and  debris 
carefully  folded  inside,  and  the  whole  dropped  out  of 
the  window.  Most  of  the  carpet  underneath  was 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  191 

swept,  and  then  Mrs.  Scharff  remembered  the 
covering  over  the  chandelier.  That  was  full  of 
lime  and  dirt,  too,  most  of  which  obeyed  the  law  of 
gravitation  regardless  of  carpets  swept  or  unswept. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Scharff.  "That  ought  to 
have  been  taken  down  first,  oughtn't  it?" 

I  wondered  how  it  would  have  been  had  that 
error  been  mine;  even  as  I  had  wondered  once 
before  when  a  clean  table-cloth  had  been  spoiled 
by  the  testing  of  a  syphon  of  vichy  without  a 
glass  under  the  spout. 

By  lunch  time  the  utility  man,  who  had  also  taken 
up  the  matting  from  the  hall  floor,  declared  that  he 
must  go,  and  was  dismissed  with  a  blessing  and  a 
somewhat  too  generous  recompense.  The  sitting- 
room  had  begun  to  look  habitable  at  last,  and 
Mrs.  Scharff  was  comforted. 

"It  doesn't  look  so  bad  after  all,  does  it,  Eliza?" 
she  purred.  "The  walls  and  the  ceiling  look  really 
very  well.  I  am  really  pleased.  Now,"  turning 
to  me,  "what  more  is  there  to  do  in  here?" 

There  was  very  little — the  cleaning  of  the  wood 
about  the  bay  window  and  one  door. 

"You  can  easily  finish  here  this  afternoon,  then, 
and  begin  on  the  halls  and  stairs.  They  will  have 
to  be  cleaned  before  Saturday,  for  James  is  coming 
then  to  put  the  carpet  down.  If  he  comes  this 
afternoon,  he  can  bring  down  the  furniture  from 
Miss  Emilie's  study.  You  tell  him,  though,  that  he 
can't  work  here  to-morrow,  for  I  am  going  to  New 
York;  he  must  wait  and  come  Saturday." 

But  it  was  my  Thursday  to  go  out,  and  I  had 
other  plans  for  the  afternoon,  as  Mrs.  Scharff  knew, 
for  she  had  been  asking  about  them  that  morning. 


192  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"But  how  can  you  go  out  if  James  comes?  You 
must  be  here  to  help  him  get  out  the  furniture. 
Besides,  there  is  this  room  to  finish  and  the  halls 
must  be  swept  at  least ;  they  are  too  dirty  and  tack- 
strewn  to  walk  through."  All  with  the  gentleness  of 
condescension,  and  with  a  smile  which  said  as  plainly 
as  anything  could  say,  "I  have  quite  forgotten  that 
promise  I  made  you,  and,  really,  you  see  how  very 
impossible  it  would  be  for  me  to  keep  it,  anyway." 

"I  don't  think  James  is  coming,"  I  said. 

"I  told  him  to  be  here  early  in  the  afternoon,  if 
he  couldn't  come  in  the  morning,"  she  corrected 
gently. 

"But  I  don't  think  he  intends  to  come  at  all," 
I  persisted.  "If  he  does  come,  he'll  be  here  before 
half -past  two,  before  I  could  be  ready  to  leave." 

She  agreed  with  me  on  that  point. 

"And  I  don't  see  why  I  can't  finish  this  room 
to-morrow  as  well  as  this  afternoon." 

"Why,  you  can,"  she  assented,  "if  you'll  have 
time."  We  were  both  crouching  in  one  corner  on 
the  floor,  where  I  had  until  that  minute  been  clean- 
ing, and  I  nearly  fell  over  from  surprise. 

"Then  I  can  sweep  the  halls  this  noon  before  I  go, 
and  still  get  downtown  by  three  o'clock,  which  is 
the  time  I  set  for  my  appointment." 

She  doubted  whether  I  could  get  it  done  so  quickly. 
She  did  not  mean  to  help  me  get  that  office-work. 

Frieda,  who  had  warned  me  of  the  coming  objec- 
tion, heard  of  my  victory  with  joyful  surprise. 
"James  no  come  dies  afternoon.  Und  venn  he 
do,  he  know  was  he  can  do.  He  been  hier  before." 

James  did  not  come  that  afternoon,  nor  did  I  see 
the  man  I  went  downtown  to  meet,  through  a 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  193 

blunder  of  my  own.  But  that  was  of  small 
importance,  for  my  understanding  with  Mrs. 
Scharff  was  clenched  before  I  went. 

''Now  I  don't  want  you  to  make  any  agreement 
this  afternoon  that  will  take  you  from  us  before  I 
can  get  a  girl,"  she  said  warningly.  "I  am  very 
much  put  out  to  have  you  do  this  way;  it  is  a 
great  inconvenience." 

''How  long  a  time  shall  you  need  to  get  a  girl?" 
I  asked,  ignoring  her  peevishness.  "I  think  we 
would  better  set  a  date." 

She  did  not  seemed  pleased  with  the  idea,  but 
she  considered.  "I — we — Miss  Emilie  and  I  are 
going  to  New  York  for  a  wedding  the  second  week 
in  October.  You  knew  that?" 

I  gave  no  sign  that  Frieda  had  told  me  this  my 
first  day  at  lunch,  so  Mrs.  Scharff  explained  and 
went  on. 

"I  can't  do  anything  before  that — I  shall  be  so 
busy  getting  ready  for  the  wedding ;  and  afterward 
we  probably  won't  be  home  again  for  nearly  a  week. 
I  want  to  bring  company  with  me  when  I  do  come, 
Mrs.  Rauston.  I  don't  want  you  to  go  until  her 
visit  is  finished ! 
.  "How  long  a  visit  will  she  make  ?" 

"Oh,  two  or  three  days." 

So  I  called  for  a  calendar,  which  she  found  after 
much  fumbling  in  her  desk,  and  decided  upon  the 
iyth  of  October  as  a  date  convenient  for  both  of  us. 

The  next  day,  Friday,  the  ordering  mind  went  to 
New  York;  I  finished  the  sitting-room,  and  Frieda 
and  I  cleaned  the  halls. 

"Wir  mussen  finish  to-day,"  Frieda  said,  as  she 
went  at  the  work  determinedly;  and  the  two  of  us 


i94  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

washed,  scrubbed  and  rubbed  all  that  long  after- 
noon until  five  o'clock;  when  Frieda  went  to  get 
dinner  and  I  did  a  little  finishing  up  and  called  off. 

We  were  both  tot  mude.  I  was  reduced  to  the 
whines,  which  I  have  learned  to  know  as  that  state 
of  weariness  next  preceding  collapse.  I  bumped 
into  a  chair  or  two  on  the  way  to  the  mess-room; 
navigation  was  difficult,  and  the  putting  of  one 
foot  before  the  other  was  not  easy.  But  Frieda 
had  set  out  a  lunch  of  coffee  and  left-overs.  We 
both  partook  and  felt  better. 

"It  vas  too  much  fur  one  afternoon,"  said  Frieda. 

"  I  know  it.  I  ought  to  have  stayed  in  and  done 
some  of  it  yesterday,"  I  moaned  contritely.  '  "Then 
there  wouldn't  have  been  so  much." 

"No;  yesterday  you  afternoon  out;  you  take  it 
always,"  replied  Frieda,  who  stood  for  principle. 
"  Da  war  too  much  fur  us,  ever,  mit  other  vork. 
She  should  get  voman  like  last  year.  Always  before 
she  get  voman.  Nevair  again  will  I  do  dis  fur  she." 

"She"  came  home  that  night,  and  Miss  Emilie, 
too;  and  Saturday  I  could  hardly  eat  my  breakfast 
for  the  fixing  of  the  sitting-room. 

James  came  around  early  on  Saturday  morning, 
but  it  was  only  to  say  that  he  could  not  work  for 
Mrs.  Scharff  until  Monday.  Frieda  had  given  him 
Mrs.  Scharff 's  message  the  day  before. 

"All  right,"  he  said  cheerfully,  as  soon  as  he  got 
over  his  surprise.  James  had  in  his  pocket  a  note 
from  Mrs.  Scharff  appointing  Friday.  "All  right, 
then ;  she  steps  back  to  the  foot  of  the  line  and  takes 
her  turn;  it  won't  come  Saturday,  either,  for  that 
is  promised  to  somebody  else." 

So  I  met  him  swinging  airily  down  the  street  on 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  195 

Saturday  morning,  as  I  was  making  my  way  back 
from  the  drug  store. 

"  She's  in  a  blue-black  tantrum/'  he  said. 

I  knew  that,  alas !  before  I  started. 

"  But  I'm  too  busy  to  waste  time,"  he  continued, 
"  so  I  talked  right  up  to  her.  I  hate  to  do  it,  I  hate 
to  make  myself  so  common,  but  there's  no  other  way 
to  get  along  with  that  woman,  as  I  found  out  long 
ago." 

"She  said  she  was  going  to  give  you  the  devil," 
I  said  wickedly. 

"I  want  to  know!  Really!  Well,  I  guess  she's 
saving  it  till  Monday.  But  she'll  have  to  learn  that 
when  she  asks  me  to  give  her  Friday  I  can't  twist 
all  my  other  engagements  at  the  last  minute  so  she 
can  have  Thursday. 

James  did  not  get  his  promised  reward  on  Monday, 
either.  Mrs.  Scharff  began  in  a  high  key  to  tell  him 
how  lucky  he  was  that  his  work  was  still  saved  for 
him. 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  he  interrupted  quietly; 
"  I'm  as  busy  as  I  can  be  six  days  in  the  week,  and 
there  are  four  parties  wanting  me  this  minute." 

So  he  settled  it. 

If  James  could  not  come  to  work  for  Mrs.  Scharff  on 
Saturday  the  general  utility  man  could  not  only  come 
but  could  stay.  After  the  proper  lares  and  penates 
were  set  up  in  the  sitting-room — and  they  seemed 
endless,  for  the  room  was  very  large — he  insisted 
upon  sweeping  the  hall  matting  and  fixing  some 
broken  window-ropes  on  the  fourth  floor,  instead  of 
coming  again  on  Tuesday. 

Mrs.  Scharff  was  aghast  at  this  proposition.  "It 
has  been  my  life  rule  never  to  have  any  work  done 


196  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

in  my  house  on  Saturday,  my  Sabbath.  It  is  against 
my  principle,"  she  declared  forcibly. 

"  Oh,  right  out  here  in  the  back  yard  won't  do  any 
harm.  I  can  do  it  all  in  ten  minutes,  and  nobody'll 
see." 

He  wasn't  such  a  nice  man ;  I  didn't  like  him,  for 
he  was  always  trying  to  wink  in  quite  too  broad  and 
facetious  a  manner.  But  then,  he  had  not  the 
advantage  of  such  virtuous  principle  as  my  mistress. 
The  rebuke  of  righteousness  was  his. 

"My  dear  man!"  she  said  with  pleasing  vigour, 
"do  you  suppose  I  am  guided  in  what  I  do  by 
whether  the  neighbours  can  see  or  not  ?  No,  indeed  ! 
It  makes  no  difference  who  sees,  or  what  anybody 
thinks.  I  do  what  I  think  right  for  my  own  con- 
science's sake." 

It  was  a  noble  sentiment,  and  great  has  been  my 
opportunity  that  I,  a  chambermaid,  should  have 
heard  it  so  bravely  spoken  ! 

Sunday,  of  course,  wasn't  the  Sabbath,  so  Mrs. 
Scharff  and  Miss  Emilie  cleaned  the  china  closet. 
It  was  my  Sunday,  so  I  wasn't  asked  to  do  anything 
about  it  except  clean  a  few  pieces  of  badly  tarnished 
silver. 

"Would  you  mind  doing  this  little?"  asked  Mrs. 
Scharff  insinuatingly.  "It  is  Sunday,  I  know,  and 
I  won't  ask  if  you  object,  but  they  are  only  a  few, 
and  we  want  to  put  them  back  so  our  closet  will  be 
finished." 

I  had  to  tell  the  truth,  but  I  told  it  with  very 
obvious  reluctance,  for  I  was  tired,  lame  and  sore 
from  the  labours  of  the  Sabbath.  The  prospect  of 
an  extra  task  did  not  please,  but  I  "s'posed"  rather 
sulkily  that  I  could  do  it. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  197 

"Oh,  thank  you  so  much!"  Mrs.  Scharff  cried 
effusively.  "I  wouldn't  ask  you  on  Sunday, 
but-  "  etc. 

"You  will  do  those  few  pieces,  Eliza,"  she  re- 
minded me  in  about  two  minutes,  as  I  went  through 
the  dining-room  to  go  upstairs. 

"I'll  do  them  after  I  come  down,"  I  said  wearily; 
"I'd  rather  do  my  regular  work  first." 

"I  wish  you'd  do  it  now,"  she  insisted.  "You 
see,  we'll  have  to  wait  before  we  can  put  them  back 
if  you  don't  do  them  now." 

So  I  did  them  then,  in  the  outside  kitchen,  to  the 
music  of  Frieda's  wrathful  tongue.  "Can  you  no 
vork  enough  on  veek  day  but  you  muss  do  silvair 
on  Sunday?  Silvair  on  Sunday  !" 

"This  is  very  important,  Frieda;  it  has  to  go  in 
the  closet." 

"It  iss  no.  It  iss  verdamnte  business.  I  like  no 
such  a  ting.  No  Sunday,  no  rest;  vork,  vork,  alle 
time  vork,  nevair  rest;  no  Sunday,  no  notting." 

Mrs.  Scharff  thanked  me  with  ostentation  when  I 
was  through — a  thing  she  did  not  often  take  the 
trouble  to  do,  any  more  than  she  often  condescended 
to  say  please  when  directing  work.  Under  the  cir- 
cumstances I  was  anything  but  grateful  for  her 
rare  courtesy. 

There  was  company  to  dinner  that  Sunday,  too. 
The  lady  came  unexpectedly,  and  dinner  was 
delayed  while  the  table  was  reset  with  different 
china  and  an  extra  course  prepared.  All  of  which 
was  foolishness,  for  the  every-day  service  was 
good  enough. 

Frieda  growled  in  concert.  "Is  die  dinner  not 
gut  enough?  Everyting  iss  hier  all  ready,  und  wir 


198  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

muss  vait  one-half  hour  to  fix  different.  Iss  she  so 
fine,  dies  lady?  I  like  it  not."  ^ 

It  was  Frieda's  Sunday  afternoon  out,  but  we 
didn't  get  through  our  dishes  until  four  o'clock.  I 
urged  Frieda  to  go  and  leave  the  dishes  to  me. 

"No,  you  haf  enough.  I  vill  do  my  vork,"  she 
said. 

At  ten  minutes  after  four  I  made  coffee  and  took 
up  a  tray  with  cake,  coffee  and  wine,  for  there  was 
another  caller. 

"  For  vhy  do  dey  vant  dat  stuff  und  you  just  done 
mit  dinner  dishes?"  sniffed  the  contemptuous  Julie, 
who  had  already  waited  an  hour  for  her  aunt  that 
day. 

"I  go  down  to  my  aunt's,"  said  Frieda.  "Venn 
I  can  no  go  early,  so  will  I  stay  late.  Maybe  I  stay 
a  day  or  two,  I  can  no  tell.  Go  im  Bett  bei  ten,  und 
no  vait  fur  me ;  I  haf  key.  Gut-by." 

I  was  tired  enough  to  go  to  bed  at  ten  o'clock, 
though  I  went  alone.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Scharff  were 
out,  too,  but  they  came  home  at  eleven  and 
awoke  me  to  know  if  Frieda  was  in.  But  Frieda 
wasn't  in.  There  was  just  time  enough  for  me  to  get 
into  a  doze  when  Mrs.  Scharff  called  again : 

"Has  Frieda  come  in?  Has  she  a  key,  do  you 
know?" 

I  believe  I  did  not  lose  myself  before  the  third  call : 

"  Eliza  !  Did  Frieda  say  what  time  she  would  get 
in?  She  didn't  say  that  she  wasn't  coming  back 
at  all?" 

Mrs.  Scharff  seemed  quite  worried.  It  was  a 
good  time  for  repentance,  but  I  have  no  reason  to 
believe  that  she  used  her  opportunity.  I  myself 
was  half  afraid  that  Frieda  might  stay  away  a  few 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  199 

days,  as  she  had  threatened.  And  though  I  was 
sorry  for^myself  in  that  event,  I  could  not  have 
blamed  her.  But  Frieda  was  as  faithful  as  she  was 
honest  and  prudent,  and  that  is  enough  to  be  said 
about  anybody.  She  was  merely  detained  by  a 
sacred  vaudeville — she  called  it  concert — to  which 
a  "young  feller"  at  her  aunt's  had  wanted  to  take 
Julie.  Julie  would  not  go  without  her,  and  that 
was  why  she  did  not  get  in  before  Monday  morning. 

Not  that  Mrs.  Scharff  did  not  appreciate  her  cook. 
No  doubt  she  was  fond  of  her  in  a  way.  Once  when 
Frieda  had  been  ill  in  bed  a  week,  Julie  had  been 
sent  for  to  take  care  of  her,  the  family  doctor  had 
been  called  and  his  bill  paid ;  and  "  netting  said  to  me 
till  aftervord,"  added  Frieda.  But  the  fullness  of 
sympathy — well,  that  is  for  equals. 

When  the  outside  kitchen  was  painted,  the 
black  paint  on  the  bricks  about  the  range  gave 
out  a  most  sickening  stench  in  the  heat  of  cooking 
the  first  dinner.  The  doors  and  windows  had  to  be 
opened  to  let  it  out ;  and  Frieda,  being  sensitive  to 
the  nipping  autumn  breezes  that  blew  in  and  played 
about  her  feet,  developed  a  cold  with  neuralgia  in 
the  head,  and  nausea. 

Mrs.  Scharff  came  in  and  found  her  looking  like  a 
mummy  with  her  head  tied  up  in  a  little  woolen 
shawl. 

"Well,  Frieda,  what's  the  matter  with  you?"  she 
inquired  jovially,  after  one  or  two  attempts  at 
general  conversation. 

"  Der  vind  blest  all  around  mein  fuss  und  I  so  kalt, 
und  die  smell  das  debil's  paint  make  me  so  sick  to 
my  stomach,"  whined  Frieda,  all  on  one  key,  and 
as  unlike  herself  as  it  was  possible  to  imagine. 


200  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Ho,  ho,  ho!"  hollared  Mrs.  Scharff.  "That's 
funny,  Frieda ;  that's  a  joke.  I  must  remember  that 
to  tell  Mr.  Scharff.  Devil's  paint!  Ha,  ha!" 

Two  or  three  days  went  by,  and  Frieda,  who  was 
really  not  able  to  move  about,  crawled  around  and 
did  her  cooking  as  usual,  and  also  some  scrubbing. 
Then  Mrs.  Scharff  brought  down  some  pills.  I  do 
have  an  indistinct  memory  of  hearing  Mrs.  Scharff 
say,  "I'm  sorry  you  feel  so  badly;  don't  go  out- 
doors in  the  wind,  and  let  1?he  heavy  work  go." 

But  that  was  during  a  return  attack  two  weeks 
later,  when  company  was  expected.  Company 
with  a  cook  who  couldn't  work  ?  Oh,  my  ! 

Frieda  was  so  obviously  suffering  pain  that  first 
night,  that  I  set  Mrs.  Scharff  down  in  my  books  for 
a  brute,  until  it  came  to  me  that  she  might  be 
trying  the  mind  cure  on  Frieda.  The  mind  cure, 
though  it  often  will  not  do  at  all  for  mistresses  or 
their  families  with  slight  colds,  is  yet  a  very 
excellent  thing  for  servants  when  seriously  ill.  The 
organic  functions  of  the  classes  are  physically  so 
different  from  those  of  the  masses,  as  every  one 
knows.  After  all,  though,  Frieda  was  subject  to 
neuralgia,  and  the  two  women  understood  each 
other  too  well  to  look  for  what  would  not  be 
forthcoming,  I  suspect. 

"She  no  care,  so  you  can  vork.  Venn  you  can 
no  vork,  denn  she  no  vant  you,"  said  Frieda,  who 
felt  sure  of  the  way  of  her  fondness. 

"  Mein  Hande"  she  said,  showing  them  to  me, 
They  were  a  sight  to  see :  calloused  and  seamed,  with 
nails  worn  and  torn.  "  Von  alle  time  so  much  im 
vater,"  she  explained,  "'nd  scrubbing.  Und  so 
sore  it  seem  sometime  like  I  can  no  stand  it.  Mrs. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  201 

Scharff  tear  nail  on  finger.  'It  iss  terrible,  Frieda/ 
she  say  to  me.  'Yes,  I  haf  auch,'  and  I  show  my 
Hande.  She  laugh.  It  iss  girl's  hands;  it  iss 
notting." 

"What  would  she  do  if  her  hands  were  like  that? 
What  is  she  like  when  she  is  sick,  anyway?" 

"  Ach !"  Frieda  spread  and  waved  her  hands 
melodramatically.  "  Medicine — quick  telephone  for 
doctor — pray  for  me — I  die —  The  inarticulate 

moan  on  the  end  defies  vocabulary.  I  could  not  but 
appreciate  the  abandon  of  the  artist,  though  doubt- 
ful about  the  request  for  intercession. 

"Das  ist  wahrt"  insisted  Frieda.  " Letze  Yahre 
— no,  vor  zwei  Yahre,  she  go  down  im  big  depart- 
ment store;  she  nairvous,  und  no  look  wo  sie  geht, 
und  she  fall  downstairs  and  break  nase  und  zwei 
rib. 

"  Man  bring  sie  home  and  put  im  Beit]  get  trained 
nurse  und  telegraph  fur  Bruder  und  Schwester,  und 
Tante  und  all  kam  from  New  York;  und  oh,  I  have 
so  much  troob  !  I  tink  it  vould  nevair  be  through  !' ' 

Then  after  a  retrospective  moment.  "She  say 
she  muss  see  me.  So  I  go  hinouf  im  ihre  room,  I 
tink  it  someting  von  my  vork  she  would  speak  to  me 
of,  und  she  say :  'Frieda,  you  tink  I  look  bad  ?  You 
tink  I  die?'  'Everybody  look  bad  im  Bett,'  I  say; 
'  you  no  die  fur  long  time  yet.'  '  Frieda,  you  pray 
fur  me  das  I  no  die ;  I  no  vant  to  die  now.' ': 

I  giggled.  Frieda  was  a  German  Catholic  and 
Mrs.  Scharff  a  Jew. 

"  Yah ;  she  say,  '  Please  pray  for  me  das  I  no  die.' ): 

"Well,  did  you?" 

Aw — how  can  I  pray  for  you,  venn  I  so  much 
vork  I  haf  no  time  to  pray  for  myself.     You  im  Beit 


202  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

all  day  mil  netting  to  do — pray  for  yourself.'  I  say 
so  to  she.  Doctor  say  she  all  right  after  awhile 
or  I  no  speak  like  so  to  any  one  sick." 

Fortunately  Frieda's  indisposition  was  oppor- 
tunely timed.  Housecleaning  went  on  just  the 
same.  The  Wednesday  morning  after  the  events 
of  Monday  and  Tuesday  already  described,  I  cleaned 
Miss  Emilie's  chamber  myself;  for  the  afternoon  I 
was  told  to  do  all  I  could  to  "my  son's  room." 

But  I  neither  hurried  nor  worried  over  the  work 
of  the  afternoon.  I  couldn't.  I  sat  down  in  the 
kitchen  for  an  hour  after  lunch  was  over  and  shelled 
Lima  beans  for  Frieda  until  my  strength  came  back, 
wondering  the  while  if  I  was  really  quite  worn  out. 
I  wasn't;  for  while  Mrs.  Scharff  was  gone  to  New 
York  next  day  I  finished  that  room,  and,  with 
Frieda,  cleaned  the  third-story  front. 

"  Ihrer  Mutter' s  Zimmer"  said  Frieda ;  "  she  say  to 
me  she  can  no  bear  to  come  up  hier  im  selige  Mutter's 
Zimmer,  she  feel  so  bad.  'Yes,'  I  say  to  she,  'I 
know;  I,  too,  lose  my  Mutter'  'Did  you,  Frieda? 
Venn?'  I  tell  to  she  und  she  say  yes;  but  she  no 
tink  it  so  bad  for  me  because  I  girl  und  vork  for 
somebody." 

And  the  next  day,  Friday,  Frieda  and  I,  with  the 
general  utility  man  to  help,  cleaned  the  fourth  story, 
half  of  which  was  our  room,  the  other  half  the 
trunk -room;  the  partition  being  a  curtain  strung 
on  a  string  behind  the  head  of  our  bed.  It  was  a 
dirty  job  and  distasteful.  We  shifted  trunks,  boxes 
and  decayed  furniture;  swept  and  washed  and 
moved  things  back  into  clean  places ;  and  cleaned  the 
storeroom  as  it  had  not  been  cleaned  for  two  years. 
That  Friday  night  Mrs.  Scharff  came  back  alone 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  203 

wearing  a  preoccupied  air,  and  Saturday  things  were 
once  more  as  they  used  to  be.  I  mean,  I  thought 
they  were  going  to  be  as  they  used  to  be ;  and  there 
was  a  partial  return  for  that  day.  I  date  the  third 
Scharff  episode  from  Saturday,  however — the  first 
being  workmen,  the  second  housecleaning,  and  the 
third  company. 

James  came  on  Saturday  and  worked  a  good  part 
of  the  day  putting  up  curtains  and  draperies. 

"  Never  did  it  in  this  house  before  on  a  Saturday/1 
he  said.  "I  wonder  what's  up.  Why,  I  remember 
when  she  had  one  regular  fuss  with  a  firm  because 
they  wanted  to  send  their  men  on  Saturday;  and 
then  she  had  another  because  they  wouldn't  send 
them  on  Sunday. 

James  was  a  nice  young  man;  I  liked  him;  but 
unlike  Frieda,  I  had  no  suspicion  of  what  was  up, 
though  I  was  sent  to  brush  and  dust  every  room  in 
the  house,  parlour  excepted. 

I  passed  over  it  all  lightly,  I  confess.  Hardly  any 
of  the  rooms  had  been  used  since  their  thorough 
cleaning  earlier  in  the  week,  and  showed  slight  need. 
Besides,  I  hadn't  a  pair  of  stockings  that  didn't  need 
mending.  By  stepping  lively  I  got  to  the  end  of  my 
list  by  twelve  o'clock  and  took  my  worn  footwear  to 
the  mess-room,  where  I  sat  down  with  it  by  the 
window. 

"  Look  out,"  said  the  friendly  Frieda,  "  old  voman 
come  in  and  see  you  sew,  she  be  mad." 

"M — yes,  I  suppose  so;  well,  let  her,  then.  I've 
got  my  work  all  done  and  I  need  these  to  wear.  I 
haven't  had  a  chance  to  mend  for  two  weeks,  and 
I'm  going  to  do  'em  now. 

Frieda   looked   distressed,   but   held   her   peace. 


204  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Pretty  soon  I  heard  the  alley  gate  click,  and  the 
rustle  of  silk  skirts  coming  up  the  walk. 

"  She's  coming,"  warned  Frieda. 

"Yes,  so  she  is,"  I  said.  "I  wonder  what  made 
her  come  in  this  way."  Calmly  I  sat  and  sewed, 
though  instinctively  I  would  have  hidden  my  work 
and  been  busy  about  something  else. 

"Why,  Eliza!    What  are  you  doing?" 

"Mending  my  stockings,"  I  answered  cheerfully, 
as  I  set  my  needle  again  with  particular  care. 

"What,  in  the  middle  of  the  day?  Is  your  work 
all  done?" 

"Certainly,  else  I  wouldn't  be  here." 

"Have  you  done  my  room — thoroughly?  the 
bathroom?  the  dining-room?  Did  you  dust  the 
sitting-room?  halls?  Miss  Emilie's  study?  her  room? 
the  doctor's  room?  the  third-story  front?  Have 
you  made  your  own  bed  and  picked  up  your  room  ?" 

I  said  "  Yes'm"  to  every  question. 

"  I  don't  believe  it !  You  couldn't  possibly  get 
through  it  all  in  the  time  you  have  had ;  I  have  kept 
house  long  enough  to  know  that,  and  you  can't 
impose  on  me  this  way!"  and  she  flounced  off 
upstairs. 

"  Nun,"  said  Frieda.     "  Was  I  tell  you  ? " 

The  upstairs  bell  rang  violently.  The  doubter 
was  in  Miss  Emilie's  room,  where  James  was  hanging 
curtains,  in  one  of  her  old-time  rages. 

"Eliza,  come  here!  You  have  not  been  in  this 
room  this  morning !" 

"Oh-,  yes;  I  came  in  about  an  hour  ago,  put  clean 
sheets  on  the  bed,  and  dusted  the  room."  I  stated 
the  simple  fact. 

"You  did  not  dust  in  this  room." 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  205 

"  I  did  dust  in  this  room." 

"You  didn't  dust  the  window-sills." 

"I  did." 

"You  didn't  dust  them." 

"I  did  dust  them." 

"You  couldn't  have;  look  at  them — they're 
black!"  and  she  applied  her  favourite  test. 
"They  haven't  been  dusted  this  week." 

I  was  getting  up  a  temper  of  my  own  now. 
"Certainly,"  I  answered  with  all  necessary  heat, 
looking  at  her  boldly;  "they  were  washed, 
scrubbed  and  cleaned  with  the  rest  of  the  room 
on  Wednesday  of  this  week.  They  were  also 
dusted  one  hour  ago.  You  may  believe  it  or  not, 
as  you  like.  The  fact  remains." 

She  looked  at  me,  but  I  was  angry.  When  I 
get  angry  I  don't  forget  it  in  three  minutes. 
Temperamentally  I  differ  from  Mrs.  Scharff  in  a 
few  slight  respects. 

"Well,  get  a  cloth  and  wash  them  off,"  she  said, 
several  degrees  milder.  "They  can't  be  like  this. 
I  don't  see  how  they  got  so." 

I  would  have  been  ashamed  of  such  an  acknowl- 
edgment had  I  lived  in  the  smoke  line  of 
the  Baldwin  Locomotive  Works  as  long  as  she 
had. 

I  got  the  cloth  and  washed  both  sills  and  sashes 
of  all  the  windows  in  Miss  Emilie's  suite. 

"Now  come  here,  Eliza  !"  called  Mrs.  Scharff. 

I  went  bristling  to  the  third-story  front,  but  Mrs. 
Scharff  was  now  quite  amiable.  "Did  you  dust 
here,  and  here?  Well,  do  it  again.  I  can't  abide 
dirty  window-sills."  Then  she  gave  me  an  armful 
of  long-tarnished  silver  to  clean. 


2o6  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"You  must  get  in  your  day's  work,"  she  said  in 
justification. 

Get  in  the  day's  work,  indeed !  I  had  already 
done  eight  hours'  work  in  seven,  and  the  two  hours 
more  in  the  evening  were  still  to  come.  But  I 
cleaned  the  silver  in  the  afternoon,  gossiping  more 
or  less  in  the  meantime.  For  one  thing,  I  tol^I 
James  of  my  intended  departure. 

"Are  you  going,  really?"  said  he.  "Why,  I 
thought  she  liked  you" 

"  She  shows  it  in  a  queer  way,  then ;  and  the  truth 
compels  me — our  regard  is  not  mutual." 

"  Well,  good  luck  to  you ;  you  can  do  better.  You 
girls  here  are  always  working.  Nobody  stays  with 
her  very  long;  Frieda  has  been  here  longer  than 
anybody  she's  had  in  a  good  while." 

"She  told  me  it  was  her  way  to  get  a  girl  who 
suited,  and  keep  her.  She  said  she  wasn't  used  to 
hunting  up  girls,"  I  said,  assuming  surprise. 

James  made  a  grimace. 

I  allowed  to  myself  that  Mrs.  Scharff  would 
probably  know  how  to  get  a  successor,  and  James 
agreed  with  me  that  she  would  not  have  forgotten 
how  to  proceed. 

Had  Mrs.  Scharff  but  known  it,  her  absences, 
diluted  tempers,  and  Frieda's  influence,  together 
with  my  own  exhausted  finances,  had  almost  per- 
suaded me  to  stay  until  Christmas,  as  she  had  been 
urging.  Providentially,  she  stumbled  over  a  pair 
of  stockings  that  morning  to  our  mutual  advantage. 

She  was  but  living  up  to  her  rule,  though.  "I 
pay  my  servants  for  their  time ;  I  must  get  the  full 
day's  work,  even  if  I  have  to  make  work  purposely." 
Dear  knows  there  was  always  enough  without  that, 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  207 

every  day  in  the  week;  and  Sunday — so  far  from 
having  two  Sundays,  we  could  count  on  none. 

"  I  can  nevair  go  in  church,"  sighed  Frieda.  But 
she  read  her  little  prayer-book,  if  she  could  get  a 
chance. 

She  read  it  the  next  day.  There  were  great 
doings  that  next  day.  They  began  the  night  before, 
wtiile  Mrs.  Scharff  sat  at  her  solitary  dinner,  with 
the  arrival  of  a  special  delivery  letter,  a  messenger 
boy  with  a  telegram,  the  sending  of  the  answer, 
and  the  ringing  for  other  messenger  boys  who 
should  carry  other  messages. 

Saturday  night  was  a  time  of  high  excitement.  I 
trotted  between  the  front  door,  the  table,  the 
kitchen  and  upstairs.  Frieda  was  interviewed.  A 
note  was  sent  to  James  to  come  next  day  and 
put  up  more  draperies  and  lay  the  dining-room 
rug.  Or,  if  his  scruples  were  too  tender,  to  come 
that  evening  and  work  until  twelve  o'clock. 

"I'll  sit  up  with  him;  and  the  rest  we'll  do  our- 
selves to-morrow,"  said  Mrs.  Scharff  resolutely. 

Poor  Frieda !  Poor  me !  But  so  much  was 
spared  us.  James  promised  to  come.  A  supple- 
mentary order  for  Monday  went  over  the  wire  to 
the  market-man ;  I  was  sent  to  the  ice-cream  place ; 
and  Frieda — loved  the  excitement  of  anticipation. 

"Was  you  tink !  Miss  Emilie  come  Monday  and 
bring  friend  from  New  York  to  see  boss.  'Nice 
young  man,  rich,  educated,  good  f ami-lie ';  und 
wir  hob  en  big  lunch ;  no  vash — maybe  doctor  come. 
Sie  sprechen  mit  me  von  was  zu  essen.  Miss  Emilie 
send  order  from  New  York;  cocktail  und  soup,  und 
sweetbread  und  chicken  und  duck  mit  peas  'nd 
petaties,  'nd  peaches,  extra  fine,  'nd  salad  'nd  ice- 


208  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

cream  'nd  cake,  7nd  fruit,  'nd  coffee — und  all  nach 
New  York  zum  heirat.  Hi,  yi ! 

"  Und  she  ask  can  I  do  all,  und  how  I  will  do  it," 
grumbled  the  cook,  coming  to  bed  an  hour  late,  after 
a  second  interview.  "I  know;  das  iss  my  business. 
I  haf  done  all  for  she  before ;  she  know  how  I  can  do. 
She  muss  be  so  busy !  She  can  make  self  busy  mit 
getting  tings,  das  ihr  business." 

Mrs.  Scharff  appeared  that  Sunday  like  the  bold 
child  who  has  surreptitiously  raided  her  mother's 
jam-pots.  She  came  often  to  the  mess-room,  while 
James  was  busy  in  the  dining-room.  Once  it  was 
near  dinnertime;  I  had  finished  my  work,  and  sat 
dressed  and  waiting. 

"  So  you  are  the  lady  to-day,  are  you.  I  am  glad 
we  have  one — you  and  I,  Frieda,  are  too  busy  to 
play  the  lady  ;  but  we  have  one,  see?"  said  Mrs. 
Scharff ,  pointing  to  me.  She  herself  was  still  in  her 
undress  negligee  of  the  morning. 

"  I'm  a  lady  every  day,"  I  said,  far  less  truly  than 
I  fain  would  wish.  I  refused  to  be  uncomfortable  a 
second  time  in  twenty-four  hours  over  the  same 
notion. 

"  I  hope  we  all  are,"  she  answered,  composing  her 
mouth  in  lines  Pharisaical,  to  accord  the  more  per- 
fectly with  her  tone.  Perhaps  she  would  have  liked 
to  laugh.  She  apologized  instead. 

''We  are  a  wicked  lot  here  to-day,  Eliza.  But  we 
are  all  in  the  same  boat." 

"Yes,  you'll  probably  sizzle  for  it,"  I  said,  chang- 
ing the  pronoun. 

She  laughed.  "Very  likely.  After  all,  it  doesn't 
matter  what  day  we  keep  so  long  as  we  keep  some 
one  day:  Sunday,  Monday,  Thursday,  any  day." 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  209 

"So  long  as  we  keep  some  one  day,"  I  agreed. 
"Every  Sunday,  every  Monday,  or  every  Thursday. 
But  a  Sunday  this  week  and  a  Thursday  next  week, 
as  happens  to  suit  us  best,  isn't  one  day.  It's  no 
day." 

"Oh,  you're  a  Yankee,  you  sharp  piece  you. 
There's  no  getting  ahead  of  the  Yankees.  They're 
smart — a  shrewd  lot.  What  makes  Yankees  so 
much  smarter  than  other  people,  Eliza?" 

"Why — they  aren't  any  smarter  than  they  have 
to  be  to  get  along  with  the  other  people,"  I  answered. 
But  I  looked  innocent,  and  she  returned  to  the 
charge. 

"Well,  the  Lord  would  rather  have  people  indus- 
trious and  at  work,  than  to  have  them  idle  and  lazy, 
wouldn't  he,  Frieda?" 

But  Frieda  had  no  fingers  to  put  in  that  pie,  being 
busy  with  more  important  matters ;  so  I  remembered 
from  the  instruction  of  my  youth,  and  answered  for 
her:  "The  Bible  says,  He  likes  us  to  work  six  days 
and  rest  one ;  and  on  that  day  we  are  to  do  no  work 
at  all,  save  of  necessity  and  mercy." 

"  My  work  is  necessary.  I  have  to  have  my  house 
in  order  for  to-morrow."  She  departed,  flushed 
with  exasperation,  and  the  door  closed  audibly 
behind  her. 

I  was  ashamed  to  have  stooped,  but  the  provoca- 
tion was  too  great.  She  should  not  have  tempted 
me  with  false  justification. 

But  the  big  lunch !  It  was  to  have  begun  at 
twelve  o'clock,  but  Miss  Emilie  telegraphed  to 
have  it  delayed  an  hour,  so  there  was  ample 
time  to  get  everything  ready  and  enjoy  a  small 
panic  beside. 


210  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Vhy  troob  youself?  You  do  every  ting  same 
as  always,"  said  Frieda. 

But  who  could  withstand  Mrs.  Scharff?  I  was 
besought  intermittently  to  do  the  routine  work  of 
the  morning  with  especial  care.  I  chamoised  the 
bannister  rails  the  second  time.  I  spread  rugs  with 
Asiatic  names  about  the  house.  I  got  out  the  very 
best  china,  "the  pink  dishes,"  washed  and  selected 
a  noble  array  which  took  a  good  deal  of  space  in  the 
mess-room.  I  rubbed  up  the  silver  and  set  the 
table  by  instalments. 

Mrs.  Scharff  brought  down  her  finery  for  the 
dining-room.  "Why,  you  haven't  the  wine-glasses 
out!" 

I  hadn't  known  anything  about  wine-glasses,  but 
I  got  them  out  without  remark. 

"Are  you  used  to  serving  wines?  Well,  you  take 
the  bottle  on  the  tray  with  napkin  around  it  so, 
and  pour  into  all  the  glasses,  but  mine;  I  don't 
take  it." 

"I — I'm  not  used  to  doing  that,  and  I'm  afraid  I 
couldn't  do  it  safely,"  I  said. 

"Why,  of  course  you  can  do  it;  it's  easy." 

But  I  wasn't  so  steady-handed  as  when  I  had 
gone  to  her,  and  the  idea  of  pouring  sherry  at  a 
function  was  appalling. 

"How  foolish!  Come,  don't  be  an  idiot!" 
coaxed  my  gentle  mistress. 

But  I  would  not  tempt  the  god  of  accidents  on 
that  glorious  occasion  and  the  matter  was  managed 
otherwise. 

"Looks  pretty,  doesn't  it,  Eliza?"  admired 
Mrs.  Scharff  when  the  table  was  all  ready. 

So  it  did.     Only  it  was  too  small  for  five  people 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  211 

and  gave  scarce  room  enough  for  the  things  yet  to 
go  on  it. 

But  Mrs.  Scharff  liked  it  that  way. 

"Now  do  you  think  you  can  do  everything  all 
right,  Eliza?"  asked  Mrs.  Scharff  all  in  a  quiver,  as 
I  rubbed  away  the  tarnish  from  a  soup-tureen  just 
produced. 

I  hadn't  thought  but  what  I  was  competent,  but 
after  she  spoke  I  grew  less  and  less  sure.  Suppose 
I  should  forget  and  twist  things.  What  was  the 
order  of  the  courses?  I  wasn't  sure  whether  soup 
came  among  the  first  or  the  last.  Frieda  knew,  of 
course,  but  suppose  I  shouldn't  be  able  to  under- 
stand Frieda.  So  I  got  Mrs.  Scharff  to  say  them 
in  order. 

"Vhy  muss  she  stay  out  kier  alle  time  making 
people  nairvous?"  wondered  Frieda.  "Venn  I 
first  come,  she  make  me  alle  time  so,  like  you.  But 
I  no  mind  now;  I  no  listen — I  tink  von  other  tings; 
you  muss  no  listen." 

But  I  had  not  Frieda's  long  training.  I  waited 
the  beginning  anxiously,  and  in  the  cap  which 
Mrs.  Scharff  pinned  on  my  bonny  locks  with  her 
own  fair  hands. 

Frieda  said  I  looked  very  fine  when  I  went  to 
open  the  door  for  the  people;  and  I  suppose  I 
continued  to  look  fine  throughout  the  luncheon. 
Especially  when  I  insisted  upon  taking  in  the 
sweetbreads  after  the  cocktail,  as  Mrs.  Scharff  had 
said.  If  she  didn't  say  *  'cocktail,  sweetbread,  soup, " 
I  was  gloriously  mistaken.  Nor  does  it  seem  impos- 
sible when  I  remember  that  during  one  of  Miss 
Emilie's  absences  I  regularly  passed  salt-spoons 
with  after-dinner  coffee,  by  her  order. 


212  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Old  voman  does  not  know — es  iss  no  recht" 
Frieda  declared. 

"But  she  said  she  wanted  it  that  way,  Frieda, 
honest." 

"  Es  iss  no  recht — soup  now.     I  know." 

I  looked  blank  and  Frieda  took  down  her 
patties. 

"I  think  I'll  go  and  ask,"  I  said. 

"All  right,"  said  Frieda  with  a  queer  smile,  "but 
I  know  it's  soup.  Old  voman  vant  it  right,  if  she 
don't  know  how  it  goes."  Frieda  had  learned  not 
to  listen  to  Mrs.  ScharfL 

I  sidled  in  to  Miss  Emilie  as  unobtrusively  as  I 
could,  and  put  the  question  as  softly  as  I  could,  and 
felt  that  I  was  an  idiot  indeed. 

It  was  a  good  luncheon,  and  everybody  enjoyed 
it,  except  perhaps  myself,  and  even  I  had  one  kind 
of  satisfaction  in  placing  the  last  finger-bowl. 

"The  sweetbreads  were  lovely,  Frieda,"  said 
Mrs.  Scharff  in  the  mess-room  afterward.  The 
sweetbreads  had  been  an  especial  worry  of  hers. 
"And  so  was  everything.  It  was  a  good  luncheon, 
and  everything  was  just  right." 

Pretty  soon  Miss  Emilie  came  out  and  said  the 
same  thing  over,  and  thanked  Frieda,  and — yes, 
soup  and  sweetbreads  notwithstanding,  she  thanked 
me.  But  then,  I  was  one  of  the  group,  and  Miss 
Emilie  was  not  her  mother. 

Frieda  and  I  stood  in  the  front  door  after  it  had 
closed  behind  the  folks  and  watched  them  to  the 
corner — Frieda  wanted  to  see  what  Miss  Emilie' s 
friend  looked  like — then,  it  being  half-past  three  in 
the  afternoon,  we  ate  our  lunch,  cleared  away  the 
remains,  put  away  the  finery,  and  got  ready  to 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL 


213 


wash.  For  festivities  were  over,  and  it  was  Monday 
after  all. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  day  when  we  got  out 
the  clothes ;  the  outside  kitchen,  which  was  also  the 
laundry,  was  running  over  with  them.  Everything 
that  had  been  wrapped  and  shrouded  for  the  summer 
was  now  unwrapped  and  taken  out.  Some  of  the 
curtains  and  coverings  had  been  sent  to  a  ''collar 
vomen,"  but  twelve  sheets  were  left,  and  the  collec- 
tion otherwise  was  unusually  large. 

"Wir'll  do  sheets  to-night,"  said  Frieda.  "  Vash 
fur  to-morrow  plenty  big  without  them." 

We  got  to  the  end  of  it  all  in  time  for  Frieda  to 
enjoy  her  Wednesday  afternoon,  so  I  only  was  at 
home  to  receive  the  telegram  which  I  felt  in  my 
bones  was  coming. 

"To  Miss  Frieda,"  it  read.  "Will  not  be  home 
to-night;  clean  my  room  to-morrow." 

One  more  day  of  grace.  I  did  not  lift  up  my 
voice  in  song,  but  I  was  glad  enough  to.  If  one 
must  work  like  a  dog,  it  is  better  that  it  be  like  a 
free  dog.  Frieda  said  as  much,  though  she  took 
exception  to  the  address  of  the  telegram. 

"To  Miss  Frieda,"  she  sniffed.  "Like  people  in 
New  York  send  to  sairvants.  I  like  it  not.  I  haf 
other  name." 

"You  can't  go  out  until  fif  o'clock,  if  we  clean 
she  room  to-morrow,"  she  said. 

"  Indeed  I  shall  go  out  at  two  o'clock,"  I  answered 
recklessly. 

"  It  takes  always  till  fif  o'clock  to  clean  second- 
story  front  room  venn  she  home." 


2i4  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

11  It  oughtn't  to  take  us  so  long,  and  it  isn't  going 
to,  because  what  isn't  done  I  shall  leave." 

"Fur  me  to  do?" 

"No;  for  me  next  day.  Friday,  I  suppose,  will 
be  a  work-day." 

"  No  doubt  about  it,"  said  Frieda,  but  she  thought 
it  would  not  be  wise  to  leave  any  of  the  cleaning 
until  then.  "  We'll  make  hurry  up  and  get  through 
early,"  she  said. 

I  suppose  I  would  have  stayed  by  the  work  until 
a  late  hour,  despite  my  independent  bluster.  But 
I  was  not  tested,  for  as  we  begun  early  we  got 
through  early,  and  I  left  the  house  at  three 
o'clock. 

"  I  will  say  to  Mrs.  Scharff  das  you  go  not  out  bis 
fif  o'clock,"  said  Frieda.  "Venn  she  know  you  go 
early  she  say  you  did  not  clean  die  room  all,  und  you 
muss  do  over  again  to-morrow,  venn  she  bei.  Das 
vould  be  awful.  She  terrible,  venn  ihr  room  iss 
cleaned." 

"Tell  her  anything  you  like,"  I  answered.  "I 
would  just  as  soon  tell  the  truth,  though,  and 
let  her  sputter  if  she  wants." 

But  when  Mrs.  Scharff  came  home,  concerned  that 
I  did  not  meet  her  at  the  door,  the  wily  Frieda 
explained  according  to  her  plan.  Her  mind  was 
eased,  but  catechism  was  held  in  the  room  the  next 
morning.  Did  we  do  this  thing,  that  thing  and 
the  other  thing?  Did  we  move  and  sweep  under 
the  bureau?  Did  we  find  anything  under  it? 

"A  ten-cent  piece." 

"A  ten-cent  piece?     What  did  you  do  with  it?" 

"  Left  it  in  one  of  the  trays  on  the  bureau." 

"Which  one?" 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  215 

"I  don't  know  which  one.     Didn't  you  find  it?" 

"I  saw  a  ten-cent  piece,  but  I  thought  perhaps 
Mr.  Scharff  had  left  it  for  something.  You  didn't 
find  anything  else — any  pennies?  A  penny  rolled 
under  there  the  other  day  when  I  had  my  pocket- 
book  out." 

But  I  hadn't  found  any  pennies.  The  dime  had 
been  quite  enough.  It  had  fallen  to  the  floor  as  we 
rolled  the  bureau  forward. 

"  Here's  ten  cents  for  you,  Frieda,"  said  I,  picking 
it  up  and  tossing  it  to  her.  "  Found  under  the 
bureau.  I  make  you  a  present." 

"  Nein.  It  iss  old  voman's;  she  put  to  see  if  you 
find  and  take.  Leave  it  auf  bureau.  You  muss 
nevair  take  even  a  cent  you  find  anyvhere  in  she 
room.  She  leaf  it  purpose." 

"I  don't  want  her  old  money,"  I  had  said  con- 
temptuously. 

"She  alvays  'fraid  mil  new  girl,"  went  on  Frieda. 
"Venn  I  first  come  hier,  upstairs  girl,  she  leave  fif 
cents,  ten  cents,  alle  time  round  auf  bureau,  auf 
floor  under  rugs." 

"She  didn't  put  money  under  the  rugs  for  me — 
only  pins,"  I  said. 

"Always  brush  under  the  mats,  Eliza,"  had  been 
her  order.  So,  one  morning  in  my  first  week,  finding 
the  rugs  already  suspiciously  smooth  and  clean 
brushed,  I  lifted  them,  and  side  by  side  under  one 
were  two  large  black-headed  pins  lying  heads  to 
together,  like  soldiers.  I  had  also  found  pins  lying 
in  out-of-the-way  corners. 

"Oh,  she  try  me,  too,  mit  pins,"  said  Frieda. 
"She  take  eight  pins  'nd  stick  zwei  in  every  corner; 
und  I  take  out,  sweep,  and  put  back.  'Ah,  Frieda/ 


216  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

she  say  to  me,  'you  no  sweep  in  corners  like  I  tell 
you.  See,  I  find  these  eight  pins,  zwei  in  every 
corner.' 

"'Yes,  I  do  sweep  in  corners/  I  say;  'und  I  see 
pins;  I  take  out  pins,  I  sweep  carpet,  I  put  back 
pins.  You  put  pins  in  corners  youself,  you  can 
take  out ! 

"She  keep  leaving  money  round,  auch,  und  one 
day  she  leaf  fif  dollars.  She  put  auf  floor  im  ecke 
beside  bureau.  She  tink  I  no  take  little,  maybe 
I  take  fif  dollars.  I  find  fif  dollars  and  I  put 
auf  bureau  'nd  say  notting.  Venn  I  come  up  to 
undress  beds,  I  look,  und  es  iss  no  da.  I  say, 
'Mrs.  Scharfl,  you  find  fif  dollars  I  put  for  you 
auf  bureau  ? '  '  No,  Frieda,  I  no  find  any  fif 
dollars — vhere  iss  it?'  'I  do  not  know  wo  it  iss/  I 
say,  'but  I  find  auf  floor  and  put  for  you.  And 
you  no  find  it?' 

"'Emilie!'  she  call.  'Wo  my  fif  dollars  Frieda 
find  and  put  auf  bureau  for  me  ?  Bring  me  down 
my  fif  dollars.' 

"  Und  Miss  Emilie  come  downstairs,  red  in  face, 
and  pull  fif  dollars  von  pocket. 

" '  Ah,  Miss  Emilie,'  Mrs..  Scharfl say,  'so  you  make 
lof  to  my  fif  dollars.  Did  you  find  any  more, 
Frieda?' 

"I  get  mad  and  right  before  Miss  Emilie  I  say: 
'Yes,  perhaps  I  find  another  fif  dollars,  ten 
dollars,  twenty  dollars  maybe,  was  you  put  fur  me, 
to  see  if  I  take.  I  no  vant  you  money,  Mrs.  Scharfl, 
nor  anyting  you  got.  I  haf  my  vages;  it  iss 
enough  for  poor  girl.  I  satisfied  always  mit  was 
I  earn,  und  venn  you  put  out  money  to  try  me 
•again,  I  leave/ 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  217 

"'No,  Frieda,  I  just  drop  it  aus  my  pocket-buch,' 
she  say;  but  I  know  she." 

It  had  not  occurred  to  me  that  the  different  bits 
of  small  change  I  had  seen  lying  on  the  bureau  days 
together  were  put  there  for  temptation.  But  on 
my  last  Sunday  morning  I  found  a  nickel  between 
a  chair-seat  and  its  cushion,  where  it  could  have 
been  by  no  sort  of  inadvertence  or  accident — only 
deliberate  intent.  I  was  silently  furious  at  the  find. 
I  picked  it  up,  and  though  Mrs.  Scharff  was  watch- 
ing, flipped  it  half-way  across  the  room.  It  landed, 
I  think,  on  the  ice-water  tray,  whence  it  was  in 
due  time  rescued  by  its  owner. 

Whether,  finally,  I  should  have  been  thought 
worthy  of  the  five-dollar  test,  I  cannot  tell.  But  is  it 
not  hard  enough  to  live  honest  in  this  world  of  sin 
and  woe?  Politicians  and  other  men  of  affairs 
seem  to  find  it  so,  and  these  men  hold  the  power  of 
their  own  destiny  in  lesser  degree  than  the  labourer, 
man  or  woman, -whose  only  capital  is  two  willing 
hands  and  a  stout  heart. 

Is  there  a  practice  more  contemptible  than 
the  laying  of  snares  and  the  setting  of  traps 
for  human  virtue,  weak  enough  at  its  strongest? 
I  trow  not. 

Any  person  who  will  stoop  to  such  petty  meanness 
against  those  less  fortunate  ones  who  serve  her 
doesn't  deserve  honest  employees.  This  sentiment 
would  come  from  me  with  better  grace,  though  no 
less  truly,  had  I  not  left  Mrs.  Scharff  to  discover 
for  herself  every  one  of  my  mishaps ;  for  the  breaking 
of  the  vase  was  only  the  first  of  five. 

I  cannot  account  for  this  run  of  ill-luck  except 
as  it  be  the  effect  of  sympathetic  nervousness.  At. 


218  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

any  rate,  I  broke  nothing  of  any  consequence  in 
all  my  previous  experience,  and  nothing  at  all 
afterward. 

I  did  not  make  the  accustomed  confession  and 
receive  absolution.  I  lacked  the  moral  courage  to 
stir  up  a  singe  avoidable  unpleasantness,  for  every 
outbreak  that  could  be  avoided  was  clear  gain.  If 
confession  would  have  restored  the  articles — but 
it  wouldn't.  Oh,  let  her  find  out  for  herself  and 
buy  new  ones  out  of  what  she  has  saved  from  the 
house-cleaning — it  will  be  but  poetic  justice,  I 
finally  decided. 

I  make  no  excuse — I  merely  give  the  reason  for 
the  lapse.  I  did  not  even  know  that  the  news  of 
my  misfortunes  would  not  be  gently  received. 
There  is  only  the  first  case  from  which  to  judge. 

Mrs.  Scharff  went  to  the  cupboard.  "  Where's  the 
white  vase,  Frieda — the  pretty  tall  one  that  was  out 
for  New  Year's." 

"Oh,"  said  Frieda,  "I  guess  that  one  Lizy  broke 
venn  you  in  New  York.  She  mean  to  tell  you  venn 
you  come  home,  she  said  to  me.  I  guess  she  forget 
it." 

"How  did  she  happen  to  break  it?"  asked  Mrs. 
Scharff. 

Whereupon  Frieda  related  in  detail,  adding  for 
pity's  sake,  "She  can  no  help  and  she  cut  finger 
bad." 

"Oh,  Paul!"  cried  Mrs.  Scharff  to  her  husband, 
who  was  taking  his  late  Sunday  morning  breakfast, 
"Eliza  has  broken  the  prettiest  vase  in  the  house !" 

"What!  Which  one?  Where  did  she  get  it? 
Did  she  go  into  the  parlour  and  take  it  out?"  cried 
Mr.  Scharff  excitedly. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  219 

"No,  of  course  not,"  pettishly. 

" Something  up  in  the  sitting-room?" 

"  No ;  one  of  these  here  in  the  closet.  How  stupid 
you  are!" 

"Oh,  one  of  them!"  with  exaggerated  relief. 
"You  said  it  was  the  prettiest  one  in  the  house.  I 
thought  of  course  it  must  be  one  out  of  the  parlour 
to  have  you  make  so  big  a  fuss  over  it." 

This  little  dialogue  floated  upstairs  to  me.  Mrs. 
Scharff  followed  it  up  directly. 

"So  you  have  broken  the  tall  vase,  Eliza,"  she 
said  with  an  injured  air. 

I  assented  with  some  expression  of  sincere  regret. 

"How  did  it  happen?" 

I  related  the  circumstances,  and  she,  listening, 
found  that  my  story  tallied  with  Frieda's  exactly. 

"I  don't  see  what  you  had  to  break  that  vase 
for,"  she  said  peevishly.  "I've  had  it  over  twenty 
years — ever  since  I  went  to  housekeeping.  It's 
been  used  all  this  time  and  nothing  ever  happened 
to  it  before;  I'd  rather  you'd  broken  anything  else 
in  the  house.  What  did  you  take  it  out  of  the 
dining-room  f or  ? " 

"To  empty  it." 

She  sat  and  pouted  like  a  spoiled  child  who  can't 
go  to  the  picnic  because  it  rains;  I,  not  knowing 
what  else  to  do,  went  on  with  my  dusting. 

"It's  very  unfortunate,"  I  said  after  a  bit,  "and 
I  am  extremely  sorry,  but  I  don't  consider  that  I 
am  to  blame." 

"I  consider  that  you  are  to  blame,  of  course." 

"  How  ?  I  set  it  on  the  table,  the  proper  place  for 
such  things." 

"  The  table  was  not  a  proper  place." 


220  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Where  should  I  have  put  it,  then?" 
"You    shouldn't    have    put    it    anywhere.     You 
should  have  emptied  it,  washed  it,  and  put  it  away 
without  setting  it  down  at  all." 

A  not  impossible  maneuver,  but  likely  to  be 
awkward  if  one  had  not  studied  it  out  beforehand. 
Once  more  I  regretted  the  circumstance  and  recon- 
sidered that  I  was  in  no  wise  to  blame. 

James  hung  more  curtains  on  Friday  noon,  and 
the  house  was  declared  finished  at  last.  On  Friday 
night  Mrs.  Scharff  brought  a  friend,  Mrs.  Rauston, 
home  with  her.  The  next  night  Mr.  Oliver,  Mrs. 
Rauston's  nephew,  came.  He  could  not  get  into 
the  city  before  eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  so 
Frieda  and  I  sat  up,  Frieda  to  get  ready  a  little 
lunch,  and  I  to  wait  upon  him.  But  Mr.  Oliver, 
when  he  did  come,  had  already  dined,  and  refused 
to  eat  again.  So  the  wine  was  put  away,  and  the 
chicken  sandwiches  fell  to  Frieda  and  me.  We  had 
them  in  the  morning  with  our  coffee.  So  all  I 
could  do  was  to  turn  porter  and  tote  his  valise 
upstairs.  He  appeared  to  want  to  do  it  for  himself, 
but  Mrs.  Scharff  insisted  otherwise. 

Sunday  was  a  wearying  day.  I  began  it  by  trying 
a  marble-cleaner's  stone  upon  the  steps.  The  result 
would  have  been  glorious  had  I  been  an  Amazon, 
with  nothing  else  to  do  all  day.  As  it  was,  the  effect 
was  a  little  scratchy.  So  I  went  back  to  white  sand 
after  winding  myself  on  the  broad  upper  step,  and 
reported  to  Mrs.  Scharff  that  I  had  neither  time  nor 
strength  for  the  other.  I  did  the  dusting  as  usual, 
took  up  the  morning  coffee,  set  the  table  for  break- 
fast, and  waited  on  the  breakfasters.  I  also  had 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  221 

a  spirited  difference  of  opinion  with  Mrs.  Scharff 
on  the  matter  of  a  certain  flannel  skirt  which  ought 
to  have  been  in  the  wash  and  wasn't.  She  didn't 
ask  where  I  had  pawned  it,  but  she  might  as  well. 
Finally,  upon  Mrs.  Rauston's  suggestion,  I  found  it 
in  the  very  bottom  of  the  soiled-clothes  hamper. 
Then  it  came  to  me,  what  I  had  forgotten:  that 
picking  it  up  late  Monday  morning,  I  had  put  it  in 
the  hamper  to  go  over  till  the  next  week,  because 
the  wash  already  collected  was  of  a  killing  size,  and 
Frieda  had  dared  me  to  bring  down  another  thing. 
After  breakfast  it  was  brush  skirts,  hook  collars, 
fetch  umbrellas  and  rubbers;  then  chamber-work 
and  dinner. 

After  dinner  it  took  all  the  afternoon  to  get  ready 
for  supper.  A  leaf  must  be  put  in  the  table.  Mrs. 
Scharff  didn't  like  it  because  the  table-cloth  had  not 
been  washed  clean,  and  I,  when  she  asked  why, 
though  I  had  deprecated  its  condition,  had  not  the 
courage  to  say  boldly  ''Because  the  washing  was 
too  big  to  be  done  well  in  the  time  we  had."  I  said 
instead,  "I  don't  know." 

"  Well,  I  wish  you'd  wash  the  table-cloths  yourself 
after  this,  will  you?"  I  said  "Yes,"  but  I  did  not 
mean  that  there  should  be  any  "after  this." 

I  had  to  get  "the  pink  dishes"  out  again,  and 
endure  Mrs.  Scharff  and  Mrs.  Rauston  in  the  mess- 
room  while  the  former  made  salad  sandwiches.  It 
took  a  good  while,  for  Mrs.  Scharff  seemed  to  have 
no  idea  of  a  dainty  sandwich,  and  made  several 
false  moves.  Frieda  said  the  sandwiches  were  fool- 
ishness— that  there  was  enough  without  them. 
Even  so,  I  would  rather  have  made  them  myself 
than  have  the  people  from  upstairs  fussing  around. 


222  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

It  was  a  very  elaborate  supper,  for  Miss  Emilie, 
Mrs.  Oliver  and  the  friend  of  the  Monday  lunch 
were  coming.  The  friend  of  the  Monday  lunch 
was  always  the  signal  for  a  great  spread.  Mrs. 
Oliver,  too,  was  consequential.  The  importance  of 
the  guests  may  be  the  primal  cause  for  Mrs.  Scharff's 
putting  jelly  into  a  little  silver  nut-dish  whose 
flaring  sides  were  of  open  filigree.  When  Mrs. 
Rauston  discovered  it,  the  jelly  was  oozing  through 
ready  to  drop  on  the  festive  cloth. 

It  would  have  been  a  pretty  supper,  too,  had  it 
not  been  too  elaborate  for  the  time  that  could  be 
given  it.  But  the  people  wouldn't  sit  down  until 
everything  had  been  ready  one  half -hour,  and  the 
close  had  to  be  prompt,  for  the  gentlemen  were 
going  away  on  the  eight  o'clock  train.  Mrs. 
Rauston  whispered  to  me  to  hurry,  so  the  dessert 
was  brought  in  without  clearing  the  table,  and  the 
last  was  all  a  jumble. 

Then  everything  was  to  be  put  away,  the  table 
set  for  breakfast,  four  beds  to  open,  one  to  make 
entirely,  three  trays  of  ice-water  to  prepare  and 
take  upstairs,  and — with  the  incidental  toting  of 
bags  and  running  of  errands — that  was  the  Sunday's 
work;  from  half -past  six  in  the  morning  until  half- 
past  ten  at  night :  on  the  alert  steadily  for  sixteen 
hours. 

And  Monday  was  of  the  same  sort.  Up  at  six 
o'clock,  the  morning  work,  the  morning  coffee,  and 
breakfast.  Breakfast !  If  Mrs.  Scharff  did  really 
say  the  morning  before,  as  I  now  dimly  suspect  she 
may  have  said,  "  Use  the  other  dishes  while  we  have 
company,"  the  strain  and  excitement  of  what  came 
afterward  knocked  it  from  my  mind  so  com- 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  223 

pletely,  that  always  since  I  have  positively  declared 
that  my  first  knowledge  of  her  wish  came  on  Monday 
morning.  Though  why,  in  either  case,  she  didn't 
remind  me  on  Sunday  .night,  when  she  mentioned 
the  scrubbing  of  the  marble,  the  dusting  of  the  stairs 
and  halls,  sitting-room  and  dining-room,  work  I  had 
done  almost  every  morning  for  five  weeks,  I 
am  at  a  loss  to  understand.  At  any  rate,  the  break- 
fast table  was  set  with  the  ordinary  china,  when 
Mrs.  Scharff  came  down  and  peremptorily  ordered 
the  other. 

"What  have  you  got  those  dishes  for?  I  won't 
have  those !  I  should  think  you  would  know 
enough  to  use  the  others." 

But  as  the  cereal  would  have  to  be  served  in  the 
every-day  ware,  there  being  no  suitable  dishes  with 
the  other,  I  had  not  seen  what  difference  it  made, 
being  ignorant  of  her  preference.  But  the  change 
was  made,  the  people  sat  down,  and  the  fruit  and 
finger-bowls  were  managed  without  incident. 

"Bring  more  of  these  plates." 

They  were  the  fruit  plates,  and  she  wanted  them 
to  place  under  the  cereal  dishes.  This  was  a 
departure.  Moreover,  as  there  were  only  five  fruit 
plates  in  the  beginning,  and  four  had  been  used,  I 
began  to  wash  them. 

She  rose  from  the  table  and  appeared  before  me 
in  the  outside  kitchen. 

"Leave  that!  You  don't  go  to  washing  dishes 
now.  I  guess  there  are  dishes  enough  in  this 
house  so  that  four  people  can  eat  breakfast  with- 
out washing  between  courses." 

"You  wanted  those  plates,  and  you  can't  use 
them  unless  I  wash  four," 


224  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Take  other  plates,  then  !" 

The  next  mistake  I  made  was  to  set  the  chops 
before  Miss  Emilie,  who  always  served  when  she 
was  at  home. 

"Here,  I  serve  this  breakfast,"  came  from  the 
other  side  of  the  table. 

"Are  those  all  the  chops  there  are?  Take  that 
out  and  bring  in  all  the  chops ./" 

I  had  taken  what  Frieda  had  given  ine,  without 
question.  What  she  had  kept  back  was,  I  supposed, 
to  be  kept  hot  for  second  helping.  Mrs.  Scharff,  no 
doubt,  thought  they  were  kept  back  for  Frieda  and 
me.  Perhaps  she  was  right. 

"  Emilie,  how  will  you  have  your  eggs  this  morn- 
ing?" asked  Mrs.  Scharrf,  after  a  bit,  when  things 
were  going  a  little  more  smoothly. 

Miss  Emilie  considered  and  said  "Scrambled." 

"Eliza,  bring  the  eggs  now." 

"For  Miss  Emilie?"  I  asked. 

"Er — bring  the  eggs;  tell  Frieda  we're  ready  for 
the  eggs,  scrambled.  Frieda  will  know." 

Frieda  didn't  know.  I  repeated  verbatim  the 
order,  the  question  and  the  answer,  but  she  got  no 
light.  "  Oh,  do  some  for  Miss  Emilie,"  I  said,  at  my 
wits'  end.  "  If  they  want  more  you  can  do  more." 

So  that  was  what  she  did  do ;  and  when  they  were 
done  I  set  them  before  Miss  Emilie. 

"Bring  those  eggs  here!  Miss  Emilie  isn't  the 
only  one  at  this  table  who  needs  to  eat.  How  many 
eggs  have  you  in  that  dish — one?" 

"Two." 

"Hasn't  Frieda  any  more  eggs  out  there?" 

"Oh,  yes." 

"Why  don't  you  bring  them  in?    You  ought  to 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  225 

know  that  two  eggs  won't  serve  five  people.  In 
that  dish,  too  !  I  won't  have  them  in  that  dish  !" 

She  rose  in  her  wrath  and  flung  out  into  the 
kitchen  for  the  second  time  during  breakfast. 
Frieda  stood  by  her  guns,  but  she  was  more  worked 
up  than  I  had  ever  seen  her.  An  understanding 
was  patched  up  in  German,  however,  Mrs.  Scharff 
returned  to  her  guests,  and  I  took  in  a  platter  of 
scrambled  eggs.  I  hope  the  guests  were  edified  over 
their  breakfast.  Such  a  performance  between  hostess 
and  maid,  had  I  been  visiting,  would  have  made  me 
quite  uncomfortable.  I  was  very  stupid,  no  doubt, 
not  to  know  intuitively  what  had  been  ordered  for 
breakfast,  and  what  changes  in  the  service  would  be 
desired.  The  morning  meal  at  the  Scharffs'  had 
always  been  served  from  the  kitchen  on  the  European 
plan,  as  it  were.  A  change  to  table  d'hote  unan- 
nounced was,  very  naturally,  I  think,  perplexing. 

"  Now,  I  want  you  to  keep  out  of  the  kitchen  this 
morning,  do  you  hear  ?  You're  not  to  go  near  the 
washing — there's  a  woman  coming  for  that.  I  want 
the  upstairs  and  dining-room  work  done." 

Such  strenuous  insistence  was  quite  unnecessary. 
I  was  only  too  glad  to  escape  the  washing  and  had 
got  as  far  away  from  it  as  I  could — up  on  the 
third  floor,  in  fact — when  Frieda  called  me. 

"  Mrs.  Scharff  vant  you  out  im  front,"  she  said. 

All  four  of  the  women  were  standing  by  the  alley 
gate  as  I  came  out  of  the  front  door. 

"  Eliza,  come  here.  Look  at  that !"  Mrs.  Scharff 
pointed  with  accusing  finger.  I  looked. 

The  gentleman  who  collects  garbage  had  spilled 
some  soaked  bread  in  the  street,  which  had  been 
tracked  upon  the  Scharff  sidewalk. 


226  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"I  can't  help  it.  I  swept  this  walk  not  three 
minutes  ago,  the  very  last  thing  I  did  before  I  went 
upstairs!"  My  speech  had  the  sharpness  and  my 
gesture  the  tragedy  of  despair. 

"Well,  get  a  broom  and  just  sweep  it  off," 
replied  Mrs.  Scharff. 

Such  a  Monday  morning  after  such  a  Sunday ! 
I  went  back  to  Miss  Emilie's  room  and 
smothered  a  slight  inclination  to  hysterics. 
I  tried  to  go  on  with  my  work,  but  finding 
that  I  was  literally  too  weak,  I  stretched 
myself  upon  the  mattress  and  tried  to  think 
of  nothing  for  half  an  hour.  I  had  meant  my 
rest  to  be  for  only  twenty  minutes,  but  it  took  ten 
minutes  more  for  me  to  get  up  and  go  on  even  at  a 
moderate  pace.  As  the  morning  passed,  how- 
ever, I  revived  so  that  by  lunch  time  I  was  only 
very  tired. 

Through  Monday  afternoon,  Tuesday  and  Wednes- 
day I  took  such  short  rests  as  I  could,  where  I 
could.  Since  I  must  be  always  where  I  could  hear 
the  bell,  it  was  sometimes  fifteen  minutes  on 
Mrs.  Scharff' s  couch,  if  everybody  was  out,  or  ten 
minutes  in  an  easy  chair ;  and  once,  as  I  was  getting 
out  the  pink  dishes  for  dinner — it  may  have  been 
the  last  grand  dinner  on  Wednesday  night,  for  the 
friend  of  the  Monday  lunch  was  coming  to  take 
Mrs.  Oliver  home — it  suddenly  came  over  me  that 
I  was  too  tired  to  work  another  minute.  Every- 
body was  out,  so  I  lay  myself  in  straight  lines 
upon  the  dining-room  floor  and  wished  that  I 
might  go  straight  to  the  orthodox  heaven  without 
getting  up  again. 

"It's  doggedness  as  pulls  us  through,"  was  the 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  227 

good-night  and  good-morning  song  of  Frieda  and 
myself. 

"One  more  day,  Gott  helf  uns,"  Frieda  would  say, 
for  Frieda  was  as  tired  as  I  was. 

"  Amen,"  I  would  add,  as  I  sat  upon  the  side  of  an 
unmade  bed  and  pulled  the  shoes  from  my  swollen 
and  aching  feet. 

There  was  no  refreshing  and  cleansing  sponging- 
off  in  those  days ;  there  was  no  time,  save  at  night, 
when  I  was  too  weary  to  care  whether  I  was  clean 
or  not.  That  condition  had  already  become  chronic 
with  Frieda. 

"  Oh,  I  so  dirty,"  she  had  complained,  "  und  I  can 
no  help  it.  I  haf  no  place.  Was  sie  denk  ?  I  can 
no  take  bath  in  das  sauxcer  "  (wash-bowl).  "  I  can 
nur  vash  myself  little  bit  at  time." 

Frieda  was  always  in  her  kitchen  all  day  long,  and 
not  wishing  an  audience,  had  not  time  even  to  "  vash 
herself  little  bit  at  time"  except  on  her  afternoons 
off. 

"Die  Schwartze,"  in  place  of  "die  Irishe"  who 
was  sick,  came  to  iron  on  Tuesday  and  part  of 
Wednesday.  "Die  Schwartze11  may  not  have  been 
"  langsam"  exactly.  She  worked  beautifully,  and 
always  without  hurry.  Her  serene  complacency 
under  Mrs.  Scharff's  nagging  to  haste  was  charming. 

"I'll  do  what  I  can,"  said  she,  and  she  did 
do  what  she  comfortably  could.  She  would  not 
rush  and  drive  like  Frieda  and  me,  whereby  we 
grew  secretly  anxious  for  her  lest  she  cause  dis- 
pleasure for  not  getting  through.  I  felt  that  I  must 
help  her  the  very  little  I  could,  and  Frieda  spread  out 
the  clothes  on  the  horse  to  the  best  advantage. 

Frieda  had  worries  of  her  own.     A  fire  that  was 


228  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

hot  enough  for  the  irons  was  too  hot  for  the  oven. 
When  she  cooled  her  oven  her  irons  cooled,  too. 
Mrs.  Scharff  grumbled  about  the  lunch  on  Tuesday. 
Frieda  had  not  done  well,  she  said. 

''But  consider,  mother,  a  whole  hour  late,"  said 
Miss  Emilie. 

Worse  yet,  the  pudding  for  dessert  was  burned. 

"I  can  no  help,"  said  the  discouraged  cook.  "  I 
make  another,  it  is  just  the  same."  But  Mrs. 
Scharff  said,  "  Frieda  had  no  business  to  have  burned 
it";  and  though  she  afterward  listened  to,  she  did 
not  appreciate  the  cook's  explanation. 

Frieda  didn't  burn  the  pudding  for  Wednesday 
night,  for  "die  Schwartze"  left  at  noon.  Besides, 
there  wasn't  any  pudding.  There  was  a  variety  of 
other  things,  though,  in  seven  courses.  And  then 
I  gave  my  attention  to  those  pink  dishes  for  the 
last  time.  The  third  Scharff  episode  was  closed. 
It  was  the  eve  of  October  1 7th. 

" Look,"  said  Frieda;  "fur  five  people  !" 

The  dishes  were  piled  up  ready  for  washing,  and 
when  the  dishpan  and  waiters  were  in  place,  the  long 
table  from  end  to  end  of  the  kitchen  was  too  full  for 
convenience. 

"Pair-ad  fur  com-panie.  Und  people  was  come 
kier  just  she  familie,  no  so  finer  alles  she.  Und  der 
yung  man  from  New  York,  he  no  so  grand,  I  don't 
tink;  he  no  care  for  so  much  fancy,  just  plain  but 
good.  Aber  old  vomen  know  he  familie  leben  in 
New  York  in  big  haus  und  haf  money.  Old  voman 
muss  do  fur  him  like  he  haf  home.  Und  for  she 
own  familie,  too.  Und  she  familie  keep  alle  time 
five  girls  for  vork,  und  hier  only  zwei.  Dey  know 
she  poor — old  voman  haf  no  gut  sense. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  229 

"You  no  go  avay  to-morrow,  Lizy!"  she 
resumed,  tenderly  argumentative,  as  she  put  the 
glasses  in  the  pan. 

"I  have  to,  to  save  my  life,  Frieda.  I'm  nearly 
dead,"  I  answered,  lifting  the  first  glass  to  wipe  it. 

"  Yah,  I  know,  com-panie  hieriss  terrible;  every- 
ting  so  grand,  so  much  extra,  so  much  vork  fur  just 
zwei  girls,  'nd  you  do  all  for  first  time.  But  right 
along  every  day  iss  easy.  Place  so  gut  wie  most, 
und  venn  com-panie  come  again  you  know  every  - 
ting.  You  tell  she  you  go  to-morrow?" 

"  I  said  three  weeks  ago  that  I  was  going  on  the 
seventeenth — that's  to-morrow.  She  remembers." 

11  She  vill  no  vant,"  Frieda  protested  with  a  smile. 
"She  frage  von  mir,  'Iss  Lizy  going?  Will  she 
stay,  you  tink  ?  Vhat  do  she  say  ? ' ' 

"And  you  told  her?" 

"  I  say,  *  I  do  not  know  was  she  do ;  she  say  to  me 
notting.  I  vish  she  vould  stay.' 

'  I  vish  she  vould  stay,  too,'  she  say." 

' '  I'm  sorry  to  leave  you,  Frieda ' ' — it  was  the  truth 
in  all  sincerity—  •"  but  I'm  not  sorry  to  go  for  any 
other  reason.  Mrs.  Scharff  has  worked  me  harder 
than  she  had  any  right.  But  that  I  wouldn't  mind 
if  she  would  take  the  trouble  to  be  decent.  She 
nags  when  she's  pleasant,  and  when  she  is  not 
pleasant — well,  I  never  before  worked  for  a  woman 
with  a  bigger  temper  or  less  control  of  it;  and  I 
never  will  again." 

"But  she  know  you  now,"  argued  Frieda;  "she 
get  mad  at  you  now  only  sometimes  like  to  me,  'nd 
you  know  was  to  do,  so  she  haf  littler  chance.  You 
no  like  boss  ?  Und  Miss  Emilie  ? " 

"Yes,  I  like  them;  but  I  don't  like  any  woman 


23o  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

who  so  little  respects  both  herself  and  me  that  she 
will  lie  out  of  what  she  promises  in  a  business  agree- 
ment and  then  tempt  my  honesty  with  five  and  ten- 
cent  pieces." 

But  after  all,  Frieda  really  thought  I  could  not  do 
better  for  myself  than  to  stay  with  the  Scharffs. 

"  Alvays  in  any  place  iss  something  not  nice,"  she 
said.  "All  rich  ladies  sind  fussy  'nd  nairvous,  and 
poor  folks  haf  not  so  many  tings  done  outside,  und 
vork  too  hard  fur  you  so.  Hier  all  iss  comfortable 
for  girls,  notting  to  pay  out,  und  steady.  Four 
dollars  a  week  all  vinter  make  you  rich."  It  was 
a  serious  joke. 

"  But  Frieda,  I  never  will  stay  where  I  must  be 
always  watching  lest  somebody  get  ahead  of  me. 
I  wonder  that  you  stay,  either,  and  work  so  hard, 
when  you  could  get  an  easier  place  and  just  as  much 
money  with  nice  people." 

"  Mann  can  nevair  tell  about  neue  place ;  maybe  I 
get  worse.  Hier  I  know  was  every  ting  is  like;  im 
neue  place  it  iss  alvays  troob,  troob  to  learn  the 
vays.  I  no  like  change.  Though  sometimes  I 
tink  I  can  no  stand  it  hier  any  longer." 

The  next  morning  was  Thursday,  October  iyth. 
The  company  was  gone,  the  strain  was  over,  and  I 
was  a  very  slimpsy  piece  of  goods.  Having  poked 
along  through  the  work  until  breakfast  time, 
"Now,"  I  said,  "Mrs.  Scharff  is  in  there.  I  will 
go  in  to  tell  her  that  I  am  going  away." 

Frieda  was  uneasy  but  hopeful.  Her  faith  in  my 
courage  was  weak.  My  own  was  none  too  strong, 
but  I  went  in  with  two  vases  of  flowers  freshly  filled 
with  water.  One  I  set  upon  the  sideboard  and, 
turning,  I  set  the  other  on  the  table ;  then,  leaning 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  231 

against  the  far  side  of  Miss  Emilie's  chair,  I  opened 
my  mouth  and  spoke : 

"  It  is  the  seventeenth  this  morning,  Mrs.  Scharff, 
the  date  we  agreed  upon  for  the  close  of  my  engage- 
ment here." 

"Oh,  you're  not  going,  Eliza?"  with  a  startled 
catch  in  her  voice  and  a  sudden  grieved  look. 

"  Yes,  I  am  going;  I  shall  be  free,  I  suppose,  after 
lunch?" 

"But  you  can't  go  this  morning!  You  know  I 
haven't  had  a  minute  to  look  up  anybody.  It  isn't 
fair  for  you  to  go  off  on  such  short  notice." 

"I  gave  you  notice  three  weeks  ago."  Here, 
from  sheer  weariness,  I  slipped  into  Miss  Emilie's 
chair.  Besides,  the  outward  humilities,  my  early 
libation  to  her  vanity,  had  been  dropped  long  since. 

"  But  I  hoped  you'd  stay,  Eliza  !  I  could  have 
telephoned  an  advertisement  to  the  newspapers  last 
night,  only  I  forgot  all  about  it." 

Another  black  mark  beside  her  name  on  the  big 
record  book.  Not  only  had  I  read  the  question  in 
her  face  while  at  my  evening  work  in  her  room, 
but  Frieda  had  told  me  after  she  came  up  to  bed 
that  Mrs.  Scharff  had  asked  her  again  whether  I 
still  meant  to  go. 

"Won't  you  stay,  Eliza?"  she  begged. 

"  I  don't  think  it  best,"  I  answered  wearily.  "  I'm 
not  strong  enough  to  do  your  work.  I  haven't  been 
used  to  such  hard  work.  It's  too  heavy." 

"  But  you  never  looked  so  well  in  your  life." 

I  never  had  been  stronger,  it  is  true,  though  her 
five  weeks'  acquaintance  had  given  no  adequate 
grounds  for  the  assertion.  But  she  amplified. 

"  You  have  improved  wonderfully  since  you  came 


232  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

here.  The  life  agrees  with  you;  you  look  stouter 
and  stronger  every  way." 

"  I  can't  help  my  looks.  I  know  I  never  was  so 
tired  in  my  life,  and  I'm  not  going  to  stay,"  I 
answered. 

"But  you  might  stay  until  I  get  another  girl. 
You  haven't  any  place  to  go  to,  and  it's  the  least 
you  can  do  to  accommodate  me  so  far,"  Mrs.  Scharfl 
resumed  after  a  time,  subdued  though  injured.  "  If 
you  already  had  a  place  it  would  be  different — I 
wouldn't  say  a  word." 

"  I  am  not  able  to  accommodate  you  another  day," 
I  answered.  "  I  am  tired  to  death." 

"It  is  the  waiting,"  quoth  she. 

"It  is  not,"  quoth  I. 

"What  then?" 

"It's — er — I  cannot  work  for  such  a  nervous 
woman,"  was  my  final  euphemistic  declaration. 

"Nervous?     How?" 

"  It  is  no  use  for  me  to  try  to  work  for  any  one  as 
nervous  as  you,"  I  repeated. 

She  could  not  evade  my  meaning  longer.  "I 
must  speak  to  my  people  sometimes,"  she  said,  with 
a  partial  return  to  her  old-time  vigour.  "If  you 
never  get  anything  worse,  you'll  do  well." 

I  said  nothing. 

"  You  must  stay  until  I  get  a  girl,"  she  resumed. 

"I  will  make  no  such  agreement,"  I  returned. 
"It's  altogether  too  indefinite." 

"  No,  it's  not  indefinite." 

' '  Uncertain,  then.  Until  you  get  a  girl  may  mean 
any  time  or  no  time,  as  you  decide." 

"  I'll  make  a  fair  and  open  bargain  with  you,"  she 
declared  after  a  moment.  "Stay  another  week 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  233 

while  I  try  to  get  some  one ;  you  may  go  at  the  end 
of  the  week  whether  I  have  anybody  or  not.  If  I  get 
a  girl  before  the  week  is  up,  you  may  go  as  soon  as 
she  comes,  and  I'll  give  you  the  full  week's  wages. 
That  ought  to  be  fair  enough  and  definite  enough." 

* '  That  is — fair  enough  and  definite  enough .  Only, 
as  I  said,  I  am  too  tired  to  work  through  another 
week." 

"  You  needn't  do  any  sweeping,"  eagerly. 

I  should  hope  not.     There  was  no  need. 

"I  can't  do  your  regular  Saturday  morning's 
work.  It's  too  hard." 

"Do  you  mean  the  scrubbing  of  the  pavement?" 

"I  mean  everything — all  the  scrubbing." 

"  But  you  wouldn't  have  to  do  it  much  longer— 
we  have  boards  over  the  steps  in  the  winter." 

But  that  I  already  knew. 

"  Will  you  stay  right  along  if  I  get  a  coloured  man 
to  do  all  the  front?" 

"No.  I'm  not  going  to  live  out  any  more.  I 
think  I'll  go  home." 

With  that  I  took  my  flowers  upstairs,  closing  the 
interview. 

I  did  get  rested  at  the  Scharffs',  impossible  as  the 
idea  had  seemed,  so  that  by  Sunday  morning  Eliza 
was  herself  again,  and  Mrs.  Scharff  was  again  warm 
on  the  persuasive.  She  began  on  the  favourite 
subject  in  a  new  way. 

"Really,  Eliza,  I  don't  believe  you  can  do  any 
better  for  yourself  than  to  stay  with  us.  We  are  all 
so  very  sorry  you're  going !  You  seem  to  belong 
here,  and  we're  all  so  fond  of  you  !  I  can't  make  it 
seem  right  for  you  to  go  away." 

So  fond  of  me,  indeed !     The  Scharff  affections 


234  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

were  not  laid  upon  me  in  such  bulk  as  to  be  burden- 
some. I  made  answer  to  the  first  suggestion  only. 

"  I  can  save  as  much  money  at  housework  as  I  did 
at  office  work,  and  feel  better  meanwhile.  I  hold 
that  housework  is  perfectly  honourable  if  honestly 
done,  and  no  harder  than  anything  else  in  which  one 
works  for  success.  But  the  conditions  are  unbear- 
able, and  as  for  enduring  them  longer  than  I  must, 
when  I  have  done  and  know  I  can  again  do  other 
work,  I  will  not.'* 

"Yes,  I  understand,"  she  said  sympathetically 
(but  I'm  afraid  she  didn't  understand,  really) ;  "and 
'way  down  in  my  heart  I  don't  blame  you  for  leaving 
if  you  can  find  anything  better  and  can  do  it.  But 
I  wish  you'd  stay — very  much  indeed." 

One  can  forget  much  in  a  very  short  time  if  proper 
pains  are  taken.  After  rest  and  meditation  I  found 
that  I  was  not  so  averse  to  another  month  with  the 
Scharffs  as  I  had  thought;  so  I  said: 

"  I  can  stay  until  the  fourteenth  of  November — if 
you  don't  get  anybody  else." 

The  one  applicant  from  the  office  had  not  proved 
satisfactory. 

"Oh,  will  you,  Eliza?  How  lovely!  Do  you 
mean  it,  really?" 

"  If  you  don't  get  anybody  else,  I  can  stay  until 
the  fourteenth  of  November — provided  the  rela- 
tions between  us  remain  pleasant,"  I  said  distinctly, 
looking  up  from  the  covers  I  was  tucking  in  at  the 
foot  of  Mr.  ScharfFs  bed. 

She  regarded  me  with  sharp  amusement.  "I 
don't  know  what  you  mean  by  that,  I'm  sure,"  she 
said  with  a  laugh.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"I  mean  just  what  I  said,"  I  answered. 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  235 

"You're  a  shrewd  one,  you  little  devil  you  !"  she 
said  after  further  scrutiny.  I  think  she  looked  upon 
me  as  a  menial  of  promise. 

"I'm  not  a  devil,"  I  said  coldly. 

She  tried  to  explain  that  the  epithet  as  she  had 
used  it  was  only  a  facetious  endearment  which  could 
be  given  to  inferiors  without  condescension.  I  saw 
my  mistake.  I  should  have  said,  "I'm  not  a  little 
devil." 

But  there  was  little  time  to  linger  in  pleasant  con- 
verse, for  it  was  already  late  and  the  friend  of  the 
Monday  lunch  was  coming  again,  and  that  meant 
seven  courses  in  the  pink  dishes  and '  all  the  side 
finery  to  boot. 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  be  ready  by  one  o'clock, 
Eliza?"  asked  Mrs.  ScharfL 

"Yes,  if  I'm  not  bothered,"  I  said,  though  I 
doubted  whether  my  spryest  springs  would  be 
quite  spry  enough  to  accomplish  it. 

"If  I  will  keep  away  and  let  you  work,  you 
mean,"  she  said  amiably. 

I  assented,  for  that  was  just  what  I  meant.  And 
save  for  the  once  when  she  came  to  tell  me  about  the 
places  at  the  table,  Mrs.  Scharff  was  not  downstairs. 
I  was  getting  out  the  china  then,  and  she  stood  by 
a  minute  to  watch. 

"Well,  you  don't  want  me  around,  do  you?" 
she  said  pleasantly. 

I  gave  a  very  honest  negative,  and  she  smilingly 
took  herself  upstairs  again.  A  leopard  and  his  spots 
could  not  have  figured  in  a  more  amazing  change. 

I  was  ready  with  all  my  fixings,  and  waiting  in  a 
serene  and  unruffled  mind  at  ten  minutes  before 
one.  There  were,  as  I  have  said,  several  courses  to 


236  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

the  dinner,  but  the  lady-fingers  that  I  passed  with 
the  ice-cream  were  not  made  by  Frieda. 

Frieda  did  not  have  time  for  lady -fingers,  though 
Mrs.  Scharff  had  bought  the  tins,  and  Miss  Emilie 
brought  the  recipe  from  New  York  and  read  it 
aloud  in  the  mess-room,  pointing  out  the  ingredients 
and  proportions  as  she  read.  Frieda  did  not  attend 
politely  to  the  reading.  For  the  most  part  she 
looked  stolidly  into  space  like  a  graven  image. 
And  when  Miss  Emilie  had  made  her  embarrassed 
exit  the  inoffensive  recipe  was  flung  to  the  floor. 

"  I  no  French  cook  at  $5  a  veek  das  I  make  lady- 
fingers — I  scrub  voman.  I  no  time  for  solche  fancy 
business.  Let  she  buy,  she  vant  oder  eat  she  own 
lady -fingers,  I  no  care." 

I  picked  up  the  offending  paper  in  course  of  time 
and  laid  it  on  the  dresser,  whence  Mrs.  Scharff  trans- 
ferred it  to  the  mess-room  sideboard  as  being  a 
safer  place,  and  I  never  saw  it  more. 

The  last  few  days  with  the  Sharffs  passed  pleas- 
antly on  the  whole,  and  the  eve  of  the  day  I  was  to 
leave  the  new  girl  came.  Such  a  "nice  looking 
girl"  was  Katie  that  I  first  took  her  for  a  friend 
of  the  family  when  she  came.  My  bag  was  all 
packed  ready  to  go,  and  I  was  eager,  but  I  con- 
sented to  stay  that  I  might  show  Katie  the  evening 
work. 

Then  as  a  favour  to  Mrs.  Scharff  I  slept  upon  the 
couch  in  Miss  Emilie' s  study  that  I  might  direct 
Katie  until  breakfast ;  and  then  as  a  further  favour 
I  stayed  until  after  lunch  to  show  her  most  carefully 
and  most  particularly  every  step  in  the  regular 
morning  routine  and  how  to  set  the  table  for  dinner ; 
and  meantime,  as  Katie  had  never  ironed  any  but 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  237 

plain  clothes,  I  "did  up"  Miss  Emilie's  white 
waists. 

"  You  haven't  changed  your  mind  about  staying, 
Eliza?"  Mrs.  Scharfl  asked  lugubriously,  as  I  left 
the  week's  ironing  in  her  room. 

"  Now  ?     With  the  other  girl  here  ? " 

"Oh,  I  could  easy  make  it  all  right  with  her;  she 
could  get  another  place  to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Scharfl  was  very  likely  right,  but  I  couldn't 
think  of  staying  with  her  any  longer. 

"Oh,  I  do  think  you  are  so  foolish,  Eliza  !  You 
leave  a  good  place,  and  you  haven't  anything  to 
go  to.  Here  you  would  have  four  dollars  a  week 
all  winter,  no  expenses,  nothing  to  worry  you  [?], 
plenty  to  eat,  and  a  warm  house ;  and  Frieda — you 
couldn't  find  anybody  kinder-hearted  than  Frieda." 

I  had  discovered  Frieda's  kind  and  honest  heart 
for  myself.  By  reason  of  it  I  count  on  her  as  one 
of  the  true  friends  life  has  brought  me.  But  for  the 
other  arguments  I  had  contempt,  as  for  things  that 
might  appeal  to  the  black  cat,  Jack.  I  said  as  much. 

"You're  an  obstinate  thing,  do  you   know  it?" 

"Yes.  Obstinacy  is  a  good  thing  sometimes, 
though — after  one  has  carefully  decided  what  is 
best.  It  is  the  obstinate  people  who  get  things 
done." 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  know  what  is  best  for  your- 
self." 

"  Perhaps  not ;  I  doubt  if  any  one  else  knows  what 
is  best  for  me,  either,  and  I  would  rather  suffer  for 
my  own  mistakes  than  for  somebody  else's.  But 
then,  you  said  yourself  you  didn't  blame  me  for 
going." 

She  bit  her  lips.     "  What  do  you  think  of  the  new 


38  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

girl,  Eliza?  Do  you  think  we  will  be  able  to  get 
along  with  her?"  she  asked  appealingly. 

"  She  seems  like  an  unusually  nice  girl,  who  wants 
to  do  right.  She's  rather  frightened  at  being  in  a 
new  place,  but  I  have  been  over  every  bit  of  the 
morning  work  and  shown  her  every  little  thing,  and 
1  think  she'll  get  along  all  right  if  you  are  patient 
and  don't  make  her  nervous." 

Mrs.  ScharfT  drew  in  her  under  lip  and  studied  the 
floor.  "  Can't  I  say  anything  that  will  induce  you 
to  stay  ?  I  want  to  go  to  New  York  again  week  after 
next.  I  can't  leave  a  strange  girl  in  the  house." 

''She's  honest,"  I  said.  She  was  also  informed 
that  whatever  small  change  might  be  found  loose 
in  Mrs.  Scharff's  room  was  to  be  left  there  on  the 
bureau. 

"Oh,  it  isn't  that,"  Mrs.  Scharff  said  quickly. 
"You  see,  you  are  different;  I  know  you're  careful, 
and  I  know  I  can  trust  you." 

"So  is  every  girl  careful  and  trustworthy  until 
you  find  out  differently,"  I  said. 

"Yes,  I  always  go  on  that  theory,"  said  Mrs. 
ScharfT. 

Mrs.  Scharff  was  really  very  much  cast  down  to 
lose  such  a  treasure  as  I  suddenly  found  myself  to 
be.  She  shook  hands  and  insisted  that  I  should 
come  often  to  see  her,  and  consider  that  I  had  a 
home  at  her  house,  indeed.  Frieda,  too,  was  sorry. 
"You  come  back  hier"  she  said.  "Good  place 
for  you." 

Even  Katie  was  loath  to  lose  her  crutch.  But  I 
promised  to  go  back  the  next  night  and  help  her 
about  the  dinner,  for  the  friend  of  the  Monday  lunch 
was  coming.  He  was  coming  twice  a  week  now, 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL 


239 


Mrs.  Scharff  told  Frieda,  so  that  Frieda  must  give 
up  Wednesday  afternoon  for  Friday.  Reluctantly 
I  agreed,  too,  that  Mrs.  Scharff  might  call  upon  me 
to  help  her  out  of  any  domestic  tight  places  she 
might  in  the  future  get  into,  and  that  I  would 
respond  if  I  could  without  inconvenience. 

Then  I  took  my  bag  and  walked  away.     The  bag 
was  useful  in  that  it  held  me  to  the  earth. 


So  my  final  leave  of  the  Scharffs,  with  the  last  few 
days  before  it,  was  pleasant  and  peaceful,  and  all 
the  five  weeks  before  them  might  have  been  had  my 
mistress  been  of  different  metal,  or  rather,  had  her 
estimate  of  life  and  people  been  different.  For  what 
are  people,  what  is  that  thing  we  call  character,  if 
not  a  record  or  embodiment  of  those  things  we  hold 
most  worth  while  ?  Herself,  her  son,  her  daughter ; 
New  York  society,  fashion  and  money.  Her  hus- 
band— who  can  tell  where  a  Mrs.  Scharff  places  her 
husband?  Selfishness  and  pride,  and  the  proper 
degree  of  concern  for  what  would  exalt  or  gratify 
them.  A  type  from  the  medieval,  as  the  regard 
in  which  she  held  her  household  retainers,  was  a 
survival  of  the  medieval. 

But  then,  my  own  pretty,  though  vague,  notions  of 
a  servant,  with  what  belonged  to  her  place  and  duty, 
which  I  had  taken  to  Mrs.  Scharff  as  I  had  taken 
them  to  three  households  before  hers,  I  confess  to 
have  got  unconsciously  from  tales  of  foreign  shores 
and  those  same  earlier  ages.  My  notions  seemed 
not  quite  to  fit  with  the  conditions  of  general  house- 
work as  I  had  found  them.  Either  my  employers  did 


24o  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

not  live  daintily,  or  they  were  not  gently  bred,  or 
both;  and  either  lack  was  death  to  the  pride  or 
pleasure  I  would  have  taken  in  their  service.  Or, 
the  patriarchal  ideas  were  not  in  vogue  and  there 
was  a  puzzling  consideration  for  my  personality  as 
such. 

Mrs.  Scharff  promised  to  be  the  mistress  I  was 
looking  for.  In  her  house  patriarchal  ideas  were 
in  vogue,  and  she  was  prepared  to  sniff  the  incense 
of  my  humilities  and  adulatory  works.  Mrs. 
Scharff  kept  her  promise  with  an  amplitude  which 
was  not  expected.  She  made  my  position  as 
servitor  so  hot  that  the  misty,  musty  shadow  of  my 
antique  ideal  was  bound  to  be  consumed. 

Such  an  experience  under  a  real,  true  lady  would 
have  been  quite  impossible.  I  should  not  so  rudely 
have  been  shown  my  doll  made  of  sawdust.  But  to 
Mrs.  Scharff  what  was  I?  Doubtless  of  mean 
account,  or  I  would  not  be  earning  my  bread  by 
domestic  service.  So  Mrs.  Scharff,  as  mistress, 
having  paid  me  wages  and  provided  passing  well 
for  my  creature  comforts — whether  from  business 
interests  or  kindness  of  heart  matters  little — her 
mind  was  free;  and  I  was  hers:  her  servant,  her 
drudge,  her  show  doll,  her  property,  if  only  I  could 
be  kept  from  feeling  otherwise.  From  all  of  which 
there  followed  the  many  things  I  have  written. 

It  is  not  for  one  moment  supposable  that  Mrs. 
Scharff  recognized  the  ideas  of  which  she  seemed 
to  me  a  living  exponent,  or  realized  their  ugliness. 
There  were  moments  when  I  did  her  the  honour  of 
believing  she  meant  well.  She  ever  looked  upon 
herself  as  sufficiently  kind,  and  upon  the  girls 
working  for  her  as  fortunate,  I  know.  Indeed,  my 


DEGENERATE  ISRAEL  241 

life  with  her  might  easily  have  been  worse.  Many 
girls  work  quite  as  hard  on  an  insufficient  quantity 
of  poor  food.  Mrs.  Scharff  provided  the  best  in 
unstinted  quantity.  The  relief  of  her  frequent 
absences  might  not  have  been,  nor  the  partial  rest 
of  the  less  busy  days  here  and  there.  Without 
these  alleviations,  the  partial  rests  and  the  good  and 
abundant  food,  I  must  surely  have  broken  under 
the  burden  of  her  service,  instead  of  waxing  strong 
and  lusty  as  I  did. 

But  the  fullness  of  life  is  not  in  eating  and  drink- 
ing; all  that  a  toiler  can  will  she  give  for  liberty. 
And  the  foolishness  of  one  who  would  see  a  childish 
spirit  of  outgrown  ages  live  again  in  the  institutions 
of  a  maturer  present !  The  patriarchal  idea  as  a 
basis  for  domestic  service,  though  very  pretty  in 
antique  setting,  is  in  this  age  and  land  of  the 
industrially  free  a  glaring  anachronism  cradled  in 
snobbery.  I  have  remembered  Frieda's  emphatic 
declaration,  and  I  know  her  ground  as  the  only  right 
and  fitting  one. 

Frieda  spoke  of  "missis"  and  "boss."  Early  in 
my  sojourn  with  her  I  made  the  mistake  of  trying 
to  use  her  terms  with  an  improved  pronunciation. 

"Vhat  fur  you  call  she  mistress?"  demanded 
Frieda,  irate.  "She  iss  no  great  lady  over  me  to 
say  to  me  was  I  do.  I  my  own  mistress.  I  do  so 
I  vant." 

"But  you  call  Mr.  Scharff  'boss,'  "  I  argued. 

"  Ach — er  ist  head  von  sein  familie,  das  iss 
different.  I  only  vork  hier  fur  money.  I  cook  fur 
my  business,  und  I  take  orders  fur  my  business 
like  girl  in  store.  Dies  iss  Amerika.  Cook  so  gut 
wie  anybody  was  vorks  for  a  living  hier." 


242  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"My,  but  you're  touchy,"  thought  I.  But  she 
was  right. 

Frieda  could  not  endure  the  word  "  servant"  in 
its  narrower  meaning.  I  have  a  fondness  for  the 
term  in  its  broader  sense  of  one  who  serves  his 
people,  one  who  contributes  to  the  work  of  the 
world,  and  something  of  the  nobleness  of  this 
thought  I  have  always  put  into  the  word  where  I 
have  used  it.  But  upon  its  common  restricted 
meaning,  a  domestic  employee,  society  has  put  a 
taint  of  social  and  industrial  degradation  such  as 
should  be  laid  upon  no  honourable  necessary  work 
in  a  democratic  country — or  in  any  other. 

I  share  Frieda's  prejudice  against  the  word 
"servant"  as  in  common  use.  I  know  that  my 
work  deserves  no  manner  of  contempt.  I  know 
that  I  am,  in  every  possible  way,  quite  as  worthy 
as  a  chambermaid  as  I  should  be  at  work  in  that 
office  about  which  I  have  said  so  much. 

Therefore,  until  popular  usage  has  taken  its  blight 
from  that  word  "servant,"  I  will  be  a  servant  no 
more.  A  domestic  tradeswoman  I  am,  a  chamber- 
maid, a  waitress,  an  employee  with  an  employer, 
but  a  servant  with  a  mistress — never. 

I  am  an  American. 


CHAPTER  VII 

FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB 


MRS.  HOLLIS  advertised  for  a  waitress,  "a  compe- 
tent Protestant  waitress;  no  wash."  And  then 
Mrs.  Hollis  traveled  off  to  town  on  urgent  business, 
leaving  Miss  Caroline  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  the 
applicant. 

The  applicant;  for  Mrs.  Hollis  lived  in  a  suburb 
and  it  was  late  in  the  season,  seven  days  before 
Thanksgiving.  The  reluctant  applicant;  for  Eliza 
would  fain  have  left  the  domestic  trades  for  other 
ways,  so  harsh  were  the  memories  of  her  late 
apprenticeship . 

But  necessity  compelled  and  Eliza  bowed.  "The 
last  time  to  this  yoke,  however,"  was  the  resolve 
with  which  she  boarded  the  trolley  for  the  long, 
cheerless  ride  to  an  unknown  employer. 

For  Eliza  regarded  not  the  distress  of  the 
mourners.  Neither  the  Scharff  advertisement 
farther  down  the  column  in  the  morning  paper, 
nor  the  messenger  boy  who  had  a  week  ago 
come  hunting  the  lost  treasure,  had  power  to 
allure.  Work  again  for  Mrs.  Scharff?  Nay;  now 
that  I  was  free,  so  slavish  was  my  dread  even 
of  a  meeting  that  it  became  a  habit  with  me  to 

243 


244  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

walk  an  extra  block  rather  than  pass  the  house  of 
my  one  time  mistress. 

Miss  Caroline  Hollis  knows  how  to  decide  upon  an 
applicant  domestic  without  the  judicial  stare  proper 
to  the  stockyards ;  also  without  impudent  questions 
or  remarks.  She  can  state  the  requirements  and 
privileges  of  a  vacant  place  calmly  and  with  honest 
defmiteness,  and  await  the  decision  of  the  other 
woman  with  well-bred  business  consideration.  Nor 
are  the  greatness  of  her  family  or  the  elegance  of 
its  possessions  paraded  as  inducements.  Wherefore, 
Miss  Caroline  Hollis  seemed  to  me  a  lady — a  fit  copy 
for  the  tall,  blue-uniformed  maid  who  stood  that 
morning  on  the  front  porch,  watching  me  up  the 
path. 

"You  miserable,  undersized,  half -grown,  shabby 
little  runt !"  might  be  a  free  interpretation  of  the 
stare  I  got  from  Anna,  the  chambermaid. 

"Sure,  I  thought  you'd  never  be  strong  for  the 
place  when  I  see  you  a-coming  up  the  walk,"  she 
confessed  a  month  later.  "Tilly  wanted  to  know 
did  any  girls  come  that  morning.  'Yes,  one,'  I 
says ;  'but  she  won't  stay  here  a  week  if  they  take 
her.'  " 

Miss  Caroline  was  equally  dubious.  "We  are  a 
large  family,"  she  said.  "Always  during  the  week 
there  are  six  at  dinner ;  and  when  my  brother  comes 
home  for  over  Sunday  he  brings  friends  with  him, 
so  there  are  likely  to  be  eight  or  nine  at  the  table. 
Then,  we  have  a  good  deal  of  company  besides. 
You  are  used  to  waiting  on  a  family  of  three,  but 
if  you  did  upstairs  work  with  the  waiting  this  might 
amount  to  the  same  thing  for  you  at  the  end  of  the 
day.  Do  you  think  you  would  like  to  try  it  ?" 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  $45 

I  thought  I  would. 

"I'm  sure  Mrs.  Hollis  would  be  willing  for  you  to 
make  the  trial.  I  see  no  reason  why  she  should  not 
wish  to  engage  you  permanently,  if  you  under- 
stand your  work  and  meet  our  needs,  except,  per- 
haps, for  one  thing — that  you  aren't  very  tall.  It 
is  hard  to  make  that  an  objection,  perhaps,"  Miss 
Caroline  smiled  deprecatingly ;  "but  Mrs.  Hollis's 
dining-chairs  are  so  high  that  it  is  difficult  for  a 
short  person  to  reach  over  them  to  the  table,  as 
the  waitress  must.  Still,"  meditatively,  "I  can 
manage  it  and  I  am  no  taller  than  you.  What  I  can 
do  you  ought  to  be  able  to  manage  with  a  little 
practice  and  thought.  I  think  you  can,  if  you  care 
to,  come  and  try,"  and  she  smiled,  frankly  serene,  as 
if  she  really  thought  so. 

Miss  Caroline  was  no  taller  than  I,  but  she  was 
round  and  plump,  with  wide  blue  eyes  and  always 
the  same  pleasant,  tranquil  way,  which,  had  the 
Fates  made  me  a  poet,  would  call  forth  something 
pretty  about  a  sunshiny  presence. 

I  was  not  sorry  when  I  arrived  with  my  bag  next 
morning  to  find  Mrs.  Hollis  again  in  town  and  Miss 
Caroline  in  charge  of  the  house  and  my  initiation. 
Mrs.  Scharff  would  have  said — had  our  positions 
been  reversed — that  I  had  "taken  a  fancy"  to  Miss 
Caroline,  but  I  reject  the  phrase  for  its  inaccuracy. 

The  Hollises  had  a  really  beautiful  home.  Not 
only  were  there  white  pillars  on  the  front  porch  out- 
side, but  there  was  the  taste  of  refinement  behind 
them.  It  was  such  a  home  as  the  Wetherlys  might 
have  grown  up  in — except  that  it  was  too  new. 

All  the  first  floor  in  front  of  the  kitchen  was  mine 
to  care  for — a  dining-room  and  library  in  mahogany 


246  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

finish  and  furnishing ;  a  big  reception  hall ;  a  parlour 
—a  holy  place  in  white,  green  and  gold ;  a  den  or 
smoking-room  in  oak;  a  lavatory;  the  broad  front 
stairs  to  the  first  landing ;  a  big  pantry  and  a  store- 
room; and  everywhere,  except  in  the  parlour,  big 
rugs  covered  the  polished  floor. 

I  felt  queer  enough  as  Miss  Caroline  took  me 
through  the  rooms,  explaining  things  and  detailing 
the  routine,  as  queer  as  any  other  child  promoted 
in  mid-term  from  the  object  lessons  of  the  primary 
to  the  larger  dignity  of  a  responsible  grammar-grade 
worker. 

"This  dining-room,  having  the  dark  finish,  calls 
for  a  good  deal  of  dusting,"  began  Miss  Caroline 
conversationally.  "The  rug  is  swept  with  the 
sweeper  every  day,  or  as  often  as  there  is  need. 
Usually  there  is  need  after  breakfast,  and  sometimes 
after  lunch.  Once  in  so  often — three  months,,  per- 
haps— the  man  takes  the  rug  up,  out-of-doors  some- 
where, cleans  it  thoroughly  and  puts  it  down  again. 
So  you  will  have  no  trouble  with  that  part.  You 
couldn't  do  it,  anyway ;  for  the  rug  is  too  heavy  for 
a  woman  to  manage.  We  have  cotton  flannel  bags 
that  we  tie  over  the  broom  for  taking  the  dust  from 
the  floors.  That  needs  to  be  done  every  morning 
also — dust  collects  in  the  dining-room  so  quickly, 
especially  around  the  pantry  door.  There  is  con- 
siderable passing  through — or  some,  at  least;  we 
like  the  table  wholly  cleared  after  each  meal,  too. 
The  folding  of  the  cloths  makes  some  difference, 
I  suppose.  Then,  of  course,  the  woodwork  and 
furniture  must  be  dusted  thoroughly;  and  you'll 
need  to  watch  the  window-sills,  because  sometimes, 
when  it  is  windy,  a  lot  of  dust  will  blow  in  even  when 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  247 

the  windows  are  shut.  And  it  will  be  quite  a  task  to 
keep  the  finger-marks  rubbed  off  this  door.  It's  a 
swing  door,  you  see,  and  people  push  through  in  a 
hurry  without  thinking.  Once  a  week,  on  Friday 
usually,  the  dining-room  is  cleaned  thoroughly. 
The  same  things  are  done  as  on  other  days,  only 
more  thoroughly.  The  things  are  all  taken  out,  I 
believe,  and  the  curtains  looped  up  in  the  cords. 

"Those  brass  knobs  and  handles  on  the  side- 
board," as  she  followed  my  gaze,  "are  taken  off  two 
or  three  times  a  year  and  cleaned.  We  never  try  to 
burnish  them  without  taking  them  off ;  it  would  be 
too  difficult,  perhaps  not  possible,  to  do  it  without 
injuring  the  wood."  One  tragedy  from  overzeal 
was  averted.  "There  are  different  polishes  for  the 
floor  and  the  furniture,  but  I  think  I  will  wait  and 
let  Mrs.  Hollis  tell  you  about  those.  I  don't  know 
her  arrangement  for  the  cleaning  of  the  windows, 
either.  Though  any  day  when  they  need  cleaning 
and  you  have  time  to  do  it,  it  would  be  all  right." 

Miss  Caroline  spoke  evenly  and  moderately;  and 
later,  after  we  had  set  the  table  together  and  what 
other  preparations  for  lunch  that  were  mine  to  make 
had  been  made,  she  answered  some  worried  question 
with  halting  deliberation  and  a  look  of  calm  intent 
that  took  me  square  in  the  eyes.  Whether  so 
designed  or  not,  this  was  in  effect  an  antidote  for 
incipient  "nerves,"  and  one  lingering  survival  of  a 
darker  period  departed  that  moment  forever.  I 
felt  only  awkward  as  I  waited  on  the  three  of  the 
family  who  were  at  home  for  lunch. 

"Shall  I  show  you  about  washing  the  dishes  and 
putting  away  the  things?"  asked  Miss  Caroline, 
when  lunch  was  over. 


248  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

But  I  was  modestly  sure  that  I  could  wash  the 
dishes  and  put  away  all  that  I  had  seen  taken  out. 

Miss  Caroline  smiled  and  promised  to  come  down 
after  an  hour  to  show  me  how  to  make  butter  balls. 
Then  I  was  free  to  eat  my  lunch. 

I  did  not  know  just  where  to  go,  but  I  opened  the 
pantry  door  and  took  a  look  around  the  big  square 
kitchen.  It  was  empty  save  for  the  young  coloured 
man,  who  was  eating  by  himself  at  a  little  table 
in  one  corner,  but  a  good  deal  of  voice  was  coming 
from  the  room  beyond.  I  had  just  made  up  my 
mind  to  wander  that  way  when  the  coloured  man 
called,  and  the  small  pale  person  in  a  wrapper  whom 
I  had  already  noticed  about  the  kitchen  came  out 
and  asked  me  if  I  wanted  some  lunch. 

"Yes,"  I  said;  "I  would  like  some  if  there  is 
any." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  there  is  some ;  we  always  have  some- 
thing to  eat  here,"  replied  she  of  the  wrapper,  in  a 
quick,  pert  way  that  set  upon  her  like  tail  feathers 
upon  a  rooster. 

I  refused  to  be  snubbed,  however,  and  followed 
cheerfully  into  a  pleasant,  sunny  room,  which  held 
very  respectable  dining-room  furniture,  and  four 
women  apparently  finishing  a  meal.  I  found  a 
chair,  placed  it  at  a  vacant  corner,  and  sat  down. 
My  neighbour  on  the  right,  being  asked  by  the  pale 
person,  moved  along  to  give  me  more  room. 

' 'Thank  you,"  I  said. 

But  my  neighbour  on  the  right  did  not  do  daily 
traffic  in  the  social  amenities.  She  looked  down  at 
her  plate,  then  across  at  the  small  pale  person,  and 
they  both  laughed.  Anna  on  my  left,  my  blue-clad 
friend  of  the  morning  before,  and  the  neat,  elderly 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  249 

woman  opposite,  kept  their  eyes  closely  on  their 
own  plates. 

Soon  Anna  looked  up  from  her  plate.  ''Excuse 
me,  Tilly,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "but  she's  new 
and  don't  know  about  getting  things,  you  know." 

The  small  pale  Tilly  sent  a  vacant  look  my  way. 
Many  times  since  have  I  seen  that  look  of  amaze 
or  abstraction,  and  always  with  wonder  about  the 
special  set  of  pulleys  by  which  Nature  got  that 
beautifully  automatic  connection  between  the  blue- 
eyed  stare  and  the  unconscious  dropping  of  the 
lower  jaw,  usually  noticeable  in  persons  of  feeble 
and  wandering  wits. 

''Well!"  She  recovered  herself  with  a  jerk. 
"  Here  I  never  gave  her  anything  to  eat  off  of,  nor 
anything  to  eat,  either !  Why  didn't  you  say 
something  ? ' '  She  clattered  to  the  cupboard,  rattled 
out  a  plate,  cup  and  saucer,  knife  and  fork,  pounded 
out  to  the  kitchen  range  with  an  important  little 
switch  (only  a  mistress  of  the  art  could  get  that 
effect  and  at  the  same  time  dig  her  heels  into  the 
floor  so  vigorously),  dropped  before  me  a  large  dish 
with  a  little  scrambled  egg,  ditto  creamed  beef,  and 
flung  herself  back  into  her  chair.  All  in  a  very 
short  space  of  time  to  be  sure,  but  with  the  maximum 
of  noise  and  apparent  danger  to  the  breakable 
utensils. 

"Thank  you,"  I  said  again. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right;  don't  thank  me."  She 
tossed  her  head  and  resumed  her  conversation, 
while  I  began  on  the  provisions  before  me. 

"Do  you  believe  in  love  at  first  sight,  Mrs. 
Nicholl?" 

Mrs.   Nicholl,  the  elderly  one  with  the  Titian- 


250  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

tinted  hair  in  neat  braided  coil,  which  was  some- 
how very  attractive  to  me,  treated  the  question  as 
of  slight  consequence. 

"Oh,  sometimes  when  we  see  people  they  please 
us  more  right  away  at  first  than  others  do,"  she 
replied  with  a  strong  German  accent.  "But  for 
love  you  must  have  time.  Love  is  nothing  light, 
so  it  is  alive  one  day  and  dead  the  next."  The 
opinion  of  the  meeting  was  taken.  Lilla  believed 
in  love  at  first  sight ;  Anna  didn't  know  whether  she 
did  or  not;  and  Tilly — well,  it  matters  little  what 
Tilly  thought. 

"Say,  Timothy,  do  you  believe  in  love  at  first 
sight?"  she  called  with  unnecessary  noise. 

"Love  at  first  sight?  Cose;  ev'ry  time,"  came 
the  answer,  in  tones  soft  with  the  richness  of  the 
sunny  South.  Timothy  came  and  supported  one 
side  of  the  door-frame  at  Tilly's  back. 

"  Come  in,  Timothy,"  invited  Tilly. 

"You've  got  company;  I  don't  know  the 
company,"  objected  Timothy. 

Tilly  and  Anna  looked  at  each  other ;  Mrs.  Nicholl 
looked  up  at  me. 

"You  ain't  company.  Didn't  you  come  for  all 
the  time,  to  be  waitress?"  the  elder  woman 
asked. 

I  nodded. 

"She's  no  company,"  said  Mrs.  Nicholl  and  Lilla 
together;  "she's  come  to  be  waitress." 

"I  think  you  might  introduce  me  to  your  com- 
pany, Tilly,"  insisted  Timothy. 

"She  isn't  company,"  answered  Tilly.  "She's 
the  new  girl  in  little  Frank's  place."  She  said  it 
with  pity  for  the  judgment  that  could  err  on  such  an 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  251 

unlikely  specimen  for  a  place  that  had  known  little 
Frank. 

Timothy  was  not  readily  convinced.  "Are  you 
the  new  waitress?"  he  asked.  "Are  you  going  to 
stay  right  along?" 

"I've  come  to  be  waitress,  and  I'm  going  to  stay 
as  long  as  I  suit  the  people  and  the  place  suits  me," 
I  answered. 

Mrs.  Nicholl  nodded  sagely,  and  repeated  my 
reply  with  the  pronouns  in  the  second  person. 
"What's  your  name?"  she  asked. 

"Eliza,"  said  I. 

Mrs.  Nicholl  regretted  that  I  should  be  so  ungra- 
ciously received.  "Her  name's  Eliza,"  she  said  to 
Timothy. 

Timothy  acknowledged  my  presentation,  and  said 
he  was  the  coachman,  Timothy  by  name. 

"Show  the  waitress  where  the  registers  are  when 
you're  through,  Anna?"  he  said  at  length.  "I'm 
going  to  take  up  ashes,"  and  he  left  to  go  down 
into  the  cellar. 

"Timothy  didn't  have  much  to  say  this  noon," 
observed  the  small  one  with  the  jerks. 

Anna  hadn't  noticed. 

"  He  was  in  here  only  that  once,  don't  you  remem- 
ber ?  And  usually,  he's  full  of  it,  and  cuts  up  here 
a  long  time." 

As  I  had  no  reason  for  lingering  with  the  cordial 
friends,  I  retired  to  the  pantry  and  its  work.  Tilly 
improved  the  occasion  to  observe  that  I  had  been 
very  quiet. 

u  That's  nothing  for  the  first  time — she's  strange," 
said  Mrs.  Nicholl. 

"Yes,  she's  strange,"  echoed  Anna. 


252  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

It  is  not  difficult  to  make  butter  balls,  only,  as  I 
made  them  a  trifle  smaller  than  was  necessary,  I 
was  some  time  in  coming  to  the  end.  But  I  sat 
down  to  them  after  Miss  Caroline  went  upstairs, 
and  fell  into  profitable  musing  over  the  different 
ways  of  different  people.  Frieda,  for  instance, 
never  failed  to  extend  the  courtesies  of  our  mess  to 
the  stranger  worker  and  graciously  make  him  or 
her  one  with  us ;  and  first,  as  a  necessary  preliminary, 
everybody  was  always  made  known  to  everybody 
else.  But  Tilly,  it  appeared,  was  not  alive  to  her 
privileges ;  Mrs.  Nicholl  was  not  at  home,  being  a 
day-worker,  Lilla  was  as  Mrs.  Nicholl,  and  "  dumb  " 
besides;  and  Anna  was  both  too  uninterested 
and  too  shy  to  be  friendly. 

I  had  just  likened  my  first  lunch  to  my  first  recess 
at  school — they  were  absurdly  alike  except  that 
''my  feelings"  had  grown  callous  with  the  years— 
when  Tilly  came  into  the  pantry  to  get  acquainted. 

"It's  tiresome  making  those  things,  isn't  it?"  she 
observed  as  she  leaned  over  the  pantry  table. 

"They  do  seem  to  be  a  work  of  time,"  I  replied, 
"but  I  don't  mind  doing  them.  I  might  as  well  be 
busy  at  this  as  at  anything  else." 

She  marveled  at  the  sentiment.  "You  make 
them  smaller  than  little  Frank  used  to — but  they 
look  nice." 

"Who  was  little  Frank?"  I  asked. 

"The  man  they  had  here  before  you — boy,  he 
was,  only  eighteen.  A  dear  little  feller,  too,  I  thought, 
and  just  as  smart  as  he  could  be.  He  kept  every- 
thing as  shiny  as  a  new  pin." 

Ah,  a  treasure,  a  paragon !  "They  must  have 
been  sorry  to  see  him  go,"  I  said;  "and  I  wonder 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  253 

that  he  didn't  want  to  stay  through  the  winter;  it 
seems  like  a  very  nice  place  here." 

"All  of  us  out  here  were  sorry  when  he  left.  I 
think  he  hated  to  go,  too,  but  people  can't  always 
do  just  as  they  want  to." 

"No,  true;  but  a  man  can  usually  keep  at  work 
like  this  as  long  as  he  wants  to  if  he  satisfies,"  I 
said. 

"Well,  he  didn't  satisfy.  The  missus  said  she 
didn't  want  a  man;  she  wanted  a  girl  who  could 
sleep  in  the  house." 

"Oh  !  Well,  she  knew  what  she  wanted,  I  suppose, 
but  if  I  was  running  a  house  I  would  rather  keep  a 
good  waiter  man  than  take  risks  on  a  strange  girl," 
I  said.  "I  wonder  that  Mrs.  Hollis  didn't  think 
so,  too." 

"Oh,  our  missus  wouldn't  change  for  nothing 
that  way;  nobody  would — it  wouldn't  be  right," 
was  the  airy  reply. 

"Oh,  there  are  a  good  many  women  who  would 
and  do  change  just  that  way,"  I  insisted  foolishly, 
thinking  only  of  the  second  clause. 

"Well,  I  don't  think  it's  very  nice  in  you  to  come 
here  and  say  mean  things  about  our  mistress,"  said 
Tilly,  flaring  up.  "You've  got  to  apologize  for 
that !" 

I  was  not  quick  enough  to  follow  her  mental 
processes,  but  that  perhaps  did  not  matter. 

"Apologize?  I'll  think  about  it  when  I  do  some- 
thing that  needs  to  be  apologized  for,  which  I  haven't 
done  yet,"  I  retorted,  perfectly  calm.  "I  haven't  said 
anything  about  Mrs.  Hollis,  either;  I  couldn't  if  I 
wanted  to,  for  I  never  saw  her  and  don't  know 
anything  about  her.  What  I  did  say  was  that  there 


254  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

are  women  who  do  business  with  the  folks  that  work 
for  them  in  just  that  way — and  so  there  are." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  understand  what  you  meant," 
said  Tilly,  subsiding.  "I  knew  you  oughtn't  to 
think  that  way  of  our  missus.  But  you've  never 
seen  her;  that's  too  bad." 

"If  she  comes  home  to-night  I  can  see  her  then, 
I  suppose?" 

"Oh,  yes;  she'll  be  out  here  the  first  thing.  She 
always  comes  straight  out  to  me  when  she  comes  in, 
and  I'm  always  glad  to  see  her  smiling  face  come 
through  the  door ;  and  mor'n  ever  since  little  Frank 
went,  I  get  so  kind  o'  lonesome,  out  here  all  alone. 
To  tell  you  the  truth,"  Tilly  went  on  after  a  minute, 
"little  Frank  was  too  young  for  a  house  like  this— 
the  missus  thought;  he  forgot  too  many  things. 
So  she  came  down  one  morning  and  told  him  he'd 
better  get  another  place  and  she'd  get  another 
waiter." 

"Oh !"  I  said.  "Not  a  treasure,  then,  after  all." 
But  I  had  not  intended  to  pry;  only  to  make  con- 
versation. 

"I  told  the  missus  I  was  afraid  she  couldn't  find 
an  old  head  on  young  shoulders :  that  was  what  she 
seemed  to  be  looking  for.  But  she  thought  she 
could  do  better.  Perhaps  she  can;  I  don't  know," 
was  the  little  woman's  dubious  conclusion. 

"It'll  take  sometime  to  find  that  out,"  I  sug- 
gested, not  the  least  sensitive  at  the  imputation, 
though  some  might  have  been — Tilly,  for  instance. 

"Yes,  that's  so,"  agreed  the  little  one,  after  which 
she  went  on  into  the  storeroom  for  something  and 
I  was  left  to  myself. 

At  dusk  Miss  Caroline  came  down  again  to  show 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  255 

me  about  lighting  up,  and,  being  down,  she  helped 
me  set  the  table  for  dinner. 

The  Hollises  loved  certain  dishes  which  prevail 
among  up-country  Pennsylvania  Dutchmen,  and 
that  night  there  was  to  be  sauerkraut. 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Caroline;  "there's  sauerkraut 
to-night  and  no  soup,  so  you'll  need  to  warm  only 
the  dinner  plates,  with  whatever  vegetable  platters 
Tilly  will  need  to  take  up  the  dinner  in." 

Persistent  cross-questioning  got  from  Tilly  what 
those  dishes  would  be. 

"What  shelf  of  the  range  are  these  put  on,  Tilly  ?" 
I  asked,  not  knowing  the  custom.  Frieda  had  been 
most  particular  about  all  such  details. 

"I  don't  know;  put  them  anywhere  you  like," 
was  the  grudging  reply. 

"But  the  lower  shelf  may  be  too  hot,  or  the 
upper  one  too  cool.  Where  are  they  usually  put?" 
I  insisted. 

"I  believe  little  Frank  put  them  up  there," 
she  answered,  waving  her  hand  laundry  ward 
without  turning. 

"Then  I'll  put  them  up  there,  too,"  I  answered, 
still  in  the  dark  as  to  where  "there"  might  be.  I 
chose  the  top  shelf,  however,  and  for  civility's  sake 
made  her  turn  around  and  say  whether  it  was  the 
one  she  had  meant.  After  which  I  retired  to  the 
pantry  to  clean  the  celery. 

About  six  o'clock  a  large,  dark-haired,  bright- 
eyed  woman,  probably  not  far  from  fifty  years 
of  age,  hurried  through  the  pantry  into  the 
kitchen.  She  was  just  in  from  out-of-doors. 
I  knew  her  for  Mrs.  Hollis,  or,  as  Timothy  said, 
"the  madam." 


256  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Well,  Tilly,  how's  everything;  all  right?"  she 
asked  cheerily,  with  an  air  of  intimate  interest. 

"So  far  as  I  know,  it  is,"  answered  Tilly,  with 
the  air  of  a  governor-general  to  his  royal  sovereign. 
Tilly's  admiration  of  the  madam  was  most  patent. 

"I've  been  shopping  in  town  all  this  day  long, 
Tilly,  and  I'm  tired  to  death,"  but  before  the  words 
were  fairly  out  of  her  mouth  Mrs.  Hollis  had  risen 
briskly  from  her  chair  and  gone  across  to  the  laundry 
to  speak  with  Mrs.  Nicholl  and  Lilla. 

"Well,  Tilly,  do  you  want  anything?  Do  you 
need  me?"  she  asked  next. 

"I  guess  not,  missus;  everything's  going  all  right 
so  far  as  I  know." 

Mrs.  Hollis  stood  in  the  pantry -kitchen  doorway 
and  took  an  itemized  report  of  the  dinner's  progress. 
Then  she  turned  and  looked  at  me  as  I  stood  at  the 
pantry  sink  cleaning  celery. 

"How  do  you  do  ?"  she  said. 

I  replied  that  I  was  very  well  and  we  looked  at 
each  other,  she  thinking  I  know  not  what,  but 
kindly;  I  curiously. 

"That's  the  new  waitress ;  she  come  this  morning," 
volunteered  Tilly  from  the  kitchen.  "And  this," 
proudly,  "is  our  mistress,  and  we're  never  sorry  to 
see  her  come  around." 

Mrs.  Hollis  thanked  the  demonstrative  Tilly 
with  a  feeling  look  before  she  apologized  for  not 
being  at  home  to  receive  me. 

"But  you're  so  little  !"  she  said  in  dismay,  after 
some  general  talk. 

"Yes;  I  can't  help  that  now,  though,"  I  said  with 
a  serene  grin. 

"No,  you  can't  help  it  now,"  she  agreed,  checking 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  257 

a  laugh  and  giving  me  a  long,  close  look  as  if  she 
would  see  what  lay  in  the  bottom  of  my  eyes. 

I  have  a  constitutional  dislike  to  having  my 
measure  taken,  but  Mrs.  Hollis's  glance  was  so 
intimate  and  kindly  that  I  was  not  made  uncom- 
fortable, though  I  did  make  a  mental  note  to 
groan,  in  the  privacy  of  my  first  leisure  moment, 
that  she  also  should  be  a  nervous  woman.  I  was  to 
learn,  however,  that  in  nerves  as  in  other  things 
there  are  degrees  and  differences. 

"You  have  never  been  a  waitress  before?"  she 
asked. 

"No;  chambermaid  and  waitress,"   I  answered. 

She  looked  at  me  again.  "Well,  if  you  have  done 
both,  I  should  think  you  ought  to  be  able  to  do  one 
alone.  Did  you  satisfy  the  people  where  you  last 
worked?" 

"Yes,  if  their  reluctance  to  have  me  go  away 
counts  for  anything." 

"What  I  care  most  about  is  to  have  my  things 
well  taken  care  of.  If  I  can  get  somebody  I  can 
depend  upon  to  take  good  care  of  my  things,  I  am 
satisfied,"  she  said.  "I  have  to  go  away  to-morrow 
morning  for  two  weeks,  and  there  won't  be  anybody 
to  look  after  you,  or  to  tell  you  what  to  do !" 

Poor  Mrs.  Hollis  was  doubtful,  but  I  promised 
to  do  my  best  for  her. 

"Well,  I  couldn't  ask  you  to  do  better  than  that. 
That's  all  any  of  us  can  do,"  and  then  she  meditated. 

"Well,  you  stay  the  two  weeks  I  am  gone,  and 
when  I  get  back — then  we'll  see,"  she  decided. 
"Can  you  do  that?  Will  you  agree  to  do  that? 
My  daughters  can  tell  you  some  things  about  the 
work,  about  the  ways  of  the  house,  and  Tilly  and 


258  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Anna  can  tell  you  some  things,  though  they  are  new 
themselves ;  they've  been  here  long  enough  to  know 
their  own  work  pretty  well,  though  they  won't  be 
able  to  tell  you  much  about  yours.  But  they'll 
tell  you  what  they  can,  I  guess,  and  help  you  when 
you  need  it ;  and  you  do  your  best  and  the  family'll 
just  have  to  get  along.  That's  the  best  I  can  do 
for  all  of  you." 

I  grinned.  I  fear  I  was  not  in  a  position  to  appre- 
ciate her  uneasiness. 

"I  told  my  daughters  I  wished  I  could  get  a  girl 
just  out  of  a  place  where  the  work  was  very  hard 
and  the  housekeeper  very  particular,  so  the  girl 
wouldn't  think  she  was  being  killed  with  my  work 
or  my  fussiness,"  Mrs.  Hollis  went  on. 

I  assured  her  that  that  requirement  at  least  was 
amply  fulfilled  in  my  own  small  person. 

"Well,"  she  said  heartily,  "I'm  glad.  If  you  have 
had  an  experience  like  that,  you're  just  the  one 
Fm  looking  for." 

I  couldn't  help  liking  Mrs.  Hollis.  I  followed 
her  to  the  parlour  door  and  listened  while  she 
explained  that  the  room  beyond  didn't  need  dusting 
every  day ;  that  those  I  came  to  know  from  Timothy 
as  "the  images  from  Europe"  she  always  dusted 
herself  with  a  special  brush,  and  that  they  probably 
wouldn't  need  to  have  that  office  done  until  she 
got  back;  that  when  the  room  needed  a  thorough 
cleaning  she  was  always  at  home  to  see  about  it; 
that  it  would  not  need  such  a  cleaning  while  she  was 
away,  and  that  I  very  likely  would  not  need  to  go 
much  into  the  room  anyway.  For  the  rest,  I  was 
put  through  the  programme  in  short  order,  hear- 
ing again  some  of  the  things  Miss  Caroline  had 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  259 

already  told  me  and  for  the  first  time  some  things 
she  had  not. 

My  memory  of  the  next  morning's  breakfast  is 
a  good  deal  jumbled:  there  were  so  many  people 
wanting  different  things  at  the  same  time,  and  it 
was  such  a  long  way  round  the  long  dining-table. 
But  I  noticed  in  the  morning  what  I  had  been  too 
much  occupied  to  notice  the  night  before,  though 
unconsciously  I  had  felt  its  influence:  the  genial 
atmosphere,  the  gentle  speech  of  all  to  each,  and  its 
genuineness.  At  breakfast,  too !  And  Mr.  Hollis 
gave  me  a  real  society  greeting — a  good-morning 
with  a  bow  and  smile  to  boot.  I  remark  it  because 
it  was  the  first  really  courteous  salutation  which  I 
had  received  from  the  man  of  the  house  since  I  had 
been  in  domestic  employ. 

After  breakfast  Mrs.  Hollis  rushed  around, 
upstairs  and  downstairs,  seeing  to  this,  looking  out 
for  that;  until  finally  she  rushed  into  the  carriage 
to  catch  the  train,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  Anna's  own 
work  went  smoothly  on  meantime.  Mrs.  Hollis 
shook  hands  and  left  me  with  a  bright  memory  of 
her  good-by,  though  I  was  at  the  time  giving 
some  attention  to  that  portion  of  her  " things" 
collected  in  the  dining-room.  Standing  a  moment 
in  the  hall  until  Mr.  Hollis  should  join  her,  she 
remarked  the  unhurried  care  with  which  I  worked, 
the  tenderness  I  showed  her  curtains,  and  ap- 
proved. 

"  I  think  you'll  get  along  with  her  all  right ;  I  like 
the  way  she  works,"  she  said  to  Miss  Caroline  in  an 
undertone.  "I  feel  better  about  going  off  now, 
and  I'm  not  going  to  worry  one  bit  about  the  house 
or  the  things  in  it." 


26o  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Then  Mr.   Hollis  came  down,  the   carriage  was 
called,  and  they  two  were  off  for  two  weeks. 


ii 


The  two  weeks  Mrs.  Hollis  was  away  might  have 
been  fourteen  Sundays  from  old  Cotton  Mather's 
time,  so  unnaturally  long  was  it,  though  something 
was  always  happening.  Almost  always  that  some- 
thing was  of  the  sort  that  tries  the  soul,  yet  the 
memory  of  the  time  as  a  whole  is  not  unpleasant. 
The  ways  of  the  family  were  gentle  and  the  work 
play,  after  the  severe  driving  labour  to  which  I  had 
been  accustomed.  Anna  and  I  exchanged  notes. 

"They're  always  so  pleasant  spoken  to  you,  and 
so  loving  like  with  each  other !  I  like  to  get  where 
the  people  are  like  that,"  said  she.  "And  the  work 
is  nothing,  with  the  floors  the  way  they  are — no 
heavy  carpets.  It's  all  so  clean  it's  nothing  to 
keep  it  so,  only  you  must  be  always  at  it.  The 
work  is  light  but  constant." 

I  agreed  to  all  this,  though  I  found  the  rest  of  the 
night  very  welcome  to  tired  feet.  I  wonder,  by  the 
way,  how  many  miles  a  busy  day  in  a  big  house 
means  for  the  waitress. 

Tilly  thought  I  didn't  do  my  work,  because  I  had 
time  to  sit  down  both  in  the  morning  and  in  the 
afternoon. 

"You  didn't  have  the  madam  to  go  around  and 
show  you  everything  about  your  work,  same  as  I 
did.  You'll  find  a  big  difference  when  the  madam 
comes  home.  Why,  little  Frank  was  trotting  from 
morning  till  night.  He  was  always  working." 

Little   Frank  had   time   for   all   the   seven  and 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  261 

eleven  o'clock  teas,  though,  I  doubt  not.  I 
didn't,  only  now  and  then. 

"I  don't  know  where  you  keep  yourself  all  the 
morning,  I  never  see  you.  Little  Frank  was 
always  around,  as  smiling  and  as  pleasant  as 
could  be.  Little  Frank  was  the  greatest,  too. 
Timothy  used  to  stuff  him  full  of  ghost  stories, 
and  he'd  sit  for  an  hour  sometimes  with  his  mouth 
open  a-listening  to  every  word;  and  he'd  believe 
them  all." 

Timothy's  times  in  the  house  were  my  busy 
times.  I  suppose,  too,  that  I  may  thank  my  late 
training  that  I  was  often  the  first  to  be  down  in  the 
morning,  with  the  special  work  of  the  day  well 
along  before  breakfast. 

Certainly,  only  after  my  late  training  could  I 
have  taken  Mr.  Ralph's  one  tempestuous  explosion 
so  quietly.  Mr.  Ralph  was  a  nice  boy,  but  he  was 
a  senior  in  the  University,  and  very  much  put 
out — not  without  reason,  I  confess. 

Save  the  boy  Allan,  all  the  young  people  went 
to  town  that  first  Sunday  afternoon  to  some  festivity. 
The  morning  had  been  gray  and  threatening,  and 
by  five  o'clock  a  flood  was  descending  upon  the 
earth.  Somewhere  in  the  house  a  bell  began  to 
ring.  I  went  to  the  indicator  in  the  kitchen,  but 
the  pointer  said  no  call  for  me.  The  bell  rang  again 
and  again,  and  it  kept  ringing. 

" What's  that  bell?"  I  asked  Tilly.  "It's  been 
ringing  at  a  great  rate." 

Tilly  had  heard  no  bell,  and  there  was  nothing 
on  the  indicator. 

"No,  it  doesn't  sound  like  one  of  those;  it's 
more  like  a  telephone,"  I  answered.  "There  it 


262  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

is  again.  There  is  a  telephone  in  the  house, 
isn't  there?" 

"How  do  you  suppose  I  know  what  there  is  in 
the  house !  I  don't  go  prowling  around  when  the 
folks  are  away.  Why  don't  you  attend  to  your 
own  business  downstairs?" 

"  To  attend  to  my  own  business  is  the  one  desire 
of  my  life.  I'd  be  glad,  though,  if  you'd  have  the 
goodness  to  give  a  civil  answer  to  a  civil  question. 
I  might  then  perhaps  find  out  what  that  business 
is,"  I  answered. 

"  If  there's  a  bell  ringing  upstairs  it's  something 
for  Anna.  She'll  hear  it  directly  and  attend  to  it," 
said  the  small  one  with  grand  indifference. 

So  really  unconcerned  was  Tilly  that  I,  with  the 
strangeness  of  my  second  day  upon  me,  stupidly  let 
the  matter  rest;  though  the  ring  was  by  then  con- 
tinuous. Had  it  been  for  Anna  she  must  already 
have  heard  and  answered ;  or  had  it  been  a  general 
telephone  ring  Mr.  Allan  would  have  attended  to  it. 
The  wires  had  perhaps  become  deranged  in  the 
furious  storm,  was  my  verdant  decision,  and  I  held 
to  it  until  I  opened  the  door  to  a  very  impatient 
young  man  whom  I  rightly  guessed  to  be  the  son  I 
had  not  seen. 

"Where's  Timothy?"  he  demanded,  with  an 
ireful  scowl. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,  unless  he's  in  the  stable.  Shall 
I  find  out  for  you  ? " 

"Why  didn't  he  come  to  the  station?  Where 
have  all  you  folks  been,  anyway,  that  you  didn't 
hear  the  telephone  ring  ?  It  did  ring,  didn't  it  ? " 

"Yes,  sir ;  that  is,  something  rang. " 

"Why,  in  the  name  of  sense,  didn't  somebody 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  263 

answer  it,  then?  Why  didn't  you,  if  you  heard 
it?" 

"  I  didn't  know — I  supposed  there  was  somebody 
whose  duty  was  to  answer  it,"  I  audibly  regretted 
my  stupidity. 

"  Such  a  worthless  set  of  people  !"  complained  the 
young  man,  going  into  the  library,  where  his  friend, 
who  had  come  in  just  a  little  before  him,  was 
talking  with  young  Mr.  Allan.  "Here  we've  been 
waiting  down  to  the  station  and  telephoning  for 
half  an  hour,  and  nobody  had  sense  enough  to 
answer  the  ring  !"  Mr.  Ralph  spent  the  rest  of  his 
superfluous  wrath  in  a  loud  yell  to  Timothy  from 
the  back  porch. 

"Timothy!  Timothy!  Drive  to  the  station 
right  away !" 

It  was  voluminous,  megaphonous.  He  was  in 
good  form. 

"Er-— Eliza,  always  answer  the  telephone  when 
you  hear  it  keep  ringing  as  it  did  this  afternoon, 
or  call  Anna,  or  see  about  it  in  some  way, 
because  it  might  be  something  important,"  Miss 
Caroline  mildly  admonished  me  after  dinner. 

"Yes'm, "  said  I  meekly. 

I  was  sufficiently  ashamed  of  my  part  in  the  after- 
noon's performance  not  to  care  about  hearing  the 
mess  review.     But  that  was  something  I  could  not 
easily  be  deaf  to.     Timothy  told  how  long  he  had 
been  waiting  and  watching  for  the  message.     Anna 
didn't  know  why  she  hadn't  heard  it. 

II  Lizy  heard  it ;  she  was  the  only  one, "  said  Tilly. 
"Why  didn't  you  let  me  know?"  asked  Timothy. 

"I'd  give  most  anything  for  this  not  to  have 
happened. " 


264  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"  I  didn't  know  it  was  for  you;  how  should  I ?"  I 
said.  "I  heard  the  bell  and  asked  Tilly  about  it, 
but  she  seemed  to  think  it  wasn't  anything— 

"Well,  now,  you  needn't  be  putting  it  off  on  to 
me.  It  wasn't  my  fault,  and  you  needn't  say  it 
was,  for  I  didn't  hear  the  bell  at  all, "  said  Mistress 
Tilly,  fearfully  spiteful. 

I  was  somewhat  surprised,  of  course,  but  I  made 
answer  mildly.  "Now,  hold  your  horses,  will  you? 
The  thing  is  done,  and  it  can't  be  undone  by  putting 
the  blame  on  anybody.  I  don't  consider  that  it's 
my  place  to  do  that,  anyway — except  to  take  to 
myself  what  belongs  to  me.  But  I  do  say  that  I 
did  ask  you  about  that  bell  and  you  chose  not  to 


answer  me." 


11  Well,  I  didn't  hear  you, "  said  Tilly,  as  she  began 
to  breathe  more  quietly. 

There  was  no  dodging  the  fact  that  there  was 
strong  temperamental  incompatibility  between  the 
cook  and  the  new  waitress.  Twice  in  two  days  it 
had  been  demonstrated — as  if  I  had  not  instantly 
felt  her  to  be  of  a  type  before  which  I  prefer  every 
other  type.  Pert,  vain,  loud-mouthed  and  vacuous, 
important  where  most  conspicuous  for  her  short- 
comings. For  to  my  mind,  my  associate's  skill  as 
cook  lay  chiefly  in  her  "think  so."  Certain  things 
she  did  very  well,  but  the  Hollises  did  not  restrict 
their  diet  to  cinnamon  buns  and  doughnuts.  For 
general  noisiness,  too,  I  would  unhesitatingly  award 
the  palm  to  Tilly.  Even  during  Miss  Caroline's 
illness,  when  one  might  expect  at  least  a  partial 
abatement,  the  lifting  up  of  her  voice  and  the 
letting  down  of  her  heels  rose  high  above  all  the 
sounds  of  industry. 


K)R  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  265 

Miss  Caroline,  already  suffering  from  a  heavy  cold, 
came  in  from  market  on  Tuesday  morning  with  a 
racking  headache.  After  a  day  or  two  Miss  Jean 
and  Miss  Elizabeth  sent  for  a  doctor,  who  applied 
himself  indifferently  to  naming  the  malady.  One 
after  another  he  called  it  for  all  the  throat  affections 
in  the  book.  Meantime  Miss  Caroline  became  very 
ill,  and  her  sisters,  worried  by  their  inexperience 
and  lack  of  knowledge,  sought  comfort  in  a 
trained  nurse. 

"Didn't  I  say  something  would  happen  if  the 
madam  went  away?  I  felt  it  all  the  time,"  Tilly 
would  call  out  to  me  in  the  pantry,  or  to  "Auntie" 
in  the  laundry,  and  that  with  much  apparent  waste 
of  voice,  for  neither  of  us  was  the  least  dull  of 
hearing. 

"  I  felt  a  sinking  of  the  heart  when  she  told  me  she 
was  going ;  I  couldn't  make  it  seem  right  someway. 
'How'm  I  ever  going  to  get  on  without  you,  missus  ?' 
I  said.  'Something's  sure  to  happen,  I  know  it  will ;' 
and  it  has,  all  right.  But  the  missus  looked  at  me 
with  one  of  her  sweet  looks.  'Oh,  Tilly,'  she  said, 
'the  sun  will  shine  just  the  same.'  'Maybe  it  will 
shine  for  you,  but  I'll  be  proper  glad  to  see  you 
coming  back  all  the  same/  I  said.  And  so  I  will.  I 
wish  she  was  here  now.  She  would  be  pretty  quick, 
I  tell  you,  if  she  knew  what  was  going  on. " 

But  the  family  had  said  that  Mrs.  Hollis  needed 
the  change  and  rest  of  the  trip.  Miss  Caroline 
absolutely  forbade  them  to  send  for  her,  and  the 
others,  having  taken  counsel  together,  decided  not 
to  cross  her  until  they  were  obliged. 

"  'I'll  be  glad  to  get  home,  Tilly',  the  madam 
said.  'I'm  always  glad  to  get  home.'  But  I  guess 


266  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

it  won't  please  her  very  much  to  see  Miss  Caroline 
the  way  she  is." 

All  this  was  exordium.  Tilly's  real  power  came 
in  the  details  of  "what  I  did  for  my  Hugh  when  he 
had  tonsilitis,  and  he's  had  it  five  times.  And  I 
know  Miss  Caroline  would  be  all  right  in  three  days 

if  she'd  gargle  with every  half -hour.  That 

was  what  helped  Hugh." 

Whatever  Miss  Caroline's  remedies,  she  did  not 
get  well  in  three  days.  On  the  third  day,  which 
was  Thanksgiving,  she  was  in  bed,  though  still 
planning  for  the  house  and  ordering  from  the 
market  through  Miss  Jean.  She  was  in  bed  when 
I  conferred  with  her  as  to  whether  I  should  take 
my  first  regular  Thursday  out.  I  had  hoped  it 
might  be  a  mutual  accommodation  for  me  to  give 
up  the  time.  Though  I  had  many  errands  to  do  in 
town,  I  could  not  do  them  on  a  holiday,  and  my 
cash  in  hand  did  not  permit  a  pleasure  jaunt 
between  Philadelphia  and  the  suburb.  These  and 
other  reasons  prompted  the  thought,  but  Miss 
Caroline  assured  me  that  I  could  go  without 
causing  any  inconvenience  on  Thursday,  which 
was  my  day.  Though,  when  it  appeared  that 
I  had  a  strong  preference  from  selfish  motives, 
passing  strange  though  it  seemed,  she  insisted 
that  I  take  Saturday  afternoon  instead. 

"We  may  have  company  then,  but  that  won't 
make  any  difference;  we  have  company  now,  and 
Anna  will  be  here.  You  take  Saturday  afternoon, 
for  otherwise  you  will  have  had  no  time  this 
week,"  she  decided  considerately,  and  that 
after  I  had  intimated  my  willingness  to  forego  it 
altogether ! 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  267 

Anna,  with  whom  I  had  previously  discussed 
the  matter,  did  not  look  with  much  favour  upon 
the  arrangement,  even  after  I  had  suggested  that 
the  Saturday  night  dinner  was  likely  to  be  less 
work  for  her  than  Thursday's. 

"That's  all  right,  Lizy ;  it's  luck,"  she  said.  "  But 
if  you  don't  want  to  take  the  time  and  they  don't 
care,  I've  nothing  to  say.  It's  better  always  to 
take  your  day,  though,  because  then  they"  [the 
employers]  "don't  get  to  think  that  they  can 
put  you  out  of  it  for  anything  that  comes  up." 

But  I  worked  on  Thursday'and  played  on  Saturday 
according  to  my  pleasure.  Could  I  foresee  that 
Saturday  night  would  be  so  irregular  ?  I  make  the 
seductions  of  congenial  society,  and  the  fact  that  I 
had  not  learned  how  to  go  to  the  Hollises'  by  the 
most  direct  route,  responsible  for  my  late  return. 

It  was  a  relief  to  see  a  light  in  the  kitchen  when 
I  rang  the  back  doorbell.  Tilly  and  Anna  were 
just  finishing  some  fish-balls  for  the  morrow's 
breakfast. 

"Well,  I  hope  you're  late  enough  !  In  ten  minutes 
you'd  have  been  locked  out,  for  we'd  have  been  all 
through  and  upstairs.  We'd  be  there  now  if  it 
wasn't  for  this  nuisance,"  came  from  the  testy 
little  Tilly  before  I  could  get  fairly  into  the  house. 

"You're  awfully  late  to-night,"  I  said  to  Anna, 
paying  no  attention  whatever  to  the  cook.  It  was 
half -past  ten  by  the  kitchen  clock.  "  I'm  late,  too. 
I  didn't  think  it  would  take  so  long  to  get  out  here, 
and  when  I  did  get  here  I  didn't  know  it  till  I  got 
a  block  too  far. 

There  was  a  pause  long  enough  to  be  chilling. 
Anna  was  evidently  reluctant  to  agreeable  converse. 


268  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"We're  both  awful  tired,  Lizy,"  she  said  at  length, 
just  as,  after  a  second  question,  I  had  set  her  down 
as  "stuffy."  "I'm  just  through  in  there"  |pantryi| 
"and  I'm  too  tired  to  talk.  I'll  tell  you  about  it  in 
the  morning." 

The  Hollis  family  had  long  planned  to  go  in  town 
that  afternoon  on  pleasure  bent,  and  all  who  were 
able  did  go;  even  Miss  Elizabeth,  whose  contrary 
determination  was  overruled  by  Miss  Caroline. 
That  autocrat  declared  that  she  wouldn't  take  her 
medicine  if  anybody  stayed  at  home.  After  they 
were  all  gone  there  came  a  telegram  from  an 
approaching  guest  that  her  train  was  scheduled 
to  arrive  in  Philadelphia  at  six  o'clock.  Anna, 
therefore,  was  sent  into  town  that  Miss  Elizabeth 
might  know  this  in  time  to  save  herself  the  return 
trip.  Anna  was  also  to  have  waited  with  Miss 
Elizabeth  and  come  back  with  the  two  women; 
but  Mr.  Ralph  and  his  visiting  friend  assumed 
the  chaperonage,  and  Anna  came  home  to  work 
at  double  quick  that  she  might  be  ready  for 
dinner  at  seven  o'clock.  Dinner  was  served  at 
nine,  however,  Miss  Lubbock's  train  having  been 
two  hours  late.  The  irregularity  and  the  strain 
of  waiting  had  so  worn  upon  my  new  friends 
that  they  voted  the  experience  "a  hard  time," 
and  apostrophized  me,  I  doubt  not,  for  not 
being  there  to  take  my  share.  Whence  the  fiat. 
It  was  Anna. 

"So  it  would  have  been  better  for  us,  after  all, 
if  you  had  gone  the  Thursday.  Now,  I  say,  every- 
body take  her  regular  time  no  matter  what  comes. 
Don't  you  think  so  ?" 

Anna  was  shy.     She  made  the  usual  polite  obser- 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  269 

vations  on  the  weather,  etc.,  but  I  was  four  days 
at  the  Hollises'  before  I  could  feel  that  her  reserve 
had  yielded  to  a  passing  friendliness — more  passing 
than  otherwise.  It  would  have  pleased  me  to  be 
with  her  as  with  Frieda,  friendly  in  all  sincerity. 
Only  Tilly,  having  been  first  on  the  ground,  with  her 
superior  attractions  of  a  visiting  son,  fifteen  years 
old,  perhaps,  and  a  woeful  tale  of  domestic  infelicity, 
had  secured  a  monopoly  of  interest.  And  she  had 
done  it  the  more  easily  for  finding  the  warmly 
sympathetic  Anna  pining  for  her — for  anybody  who 
would  put  an  end  to  the  loneliness  and  home- 
sickness of  her  two  weeks  as  the  only  maid  in  a 
strange  house.  While  I  was  with  Tilly  and  Anna 
I  would  have  been  of  them.  But  the  majority  was 
"agin  expansion,"  so  I  resigned  myself  without 
tears,  and  was  grateful  for  the  one,  the  single  friend 
in  our  set — Timothy. 

I  had  other  resources,  of  course;  and  in  them  I 
could  still  be  happy.  So  I  prattled  cheerfully  when 
I  felt  like  it,  asserted  myself  on  occasion,  and 
kept  my  eyes  open. 

When  on  Tuesday  afternoon  Anna  came  down  to 
iron  in  the  kitchen,  I  went  out  to  get  acquainted. 
I  sat  on  one  of  the  broad  window-sills,  read  her  a 
few  defunct  jokes  from  an  ancient  Life  which  had 
been  doing  service  under  the  empty  milk  bottles; 
and  then,  after  a  trite  observation  or  two,  a  leading 
question  which  didn't  lead  anywhere,  and  a  good 
many  stiff  pauses  in  which  I  admired  the  view  out- 
side, her  curiosity  got  the  better  of  her  reserve. 

"Say,  what  nationality  are  you?"  she  suddenly 
asked. 
,  "Me?     Oh,  I'm  a  Yankee.     American,  from  New 


270  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

England,  up  northeast,  you  know,"  I  explained, 
seeing  that  she  was  not  familiar  with  the  term. 

Had  I  been  born  there?  My  father  and  my 
mother  ? 

"Yes,  and  my  grandfathers  and  grandmothers," 
I  answered,  "ever  since  the  first  ones  left  the  old 
country.  They  had  to  leave  sometime,  or  they 
never  would  have  got  here." 

"What  country?"  with  a  grin  of  amusement. 

"Oh,  they  were  Irish,  Scotch  and  English,  I 
guess;  and  French,  Portuguese  and  pirates,  for 
anything  I  know.  What  are  you  ?" 

"I'm  Scotch,"  said  she,  giving  particular  care  to 
a  troublesome  corner. 

"They're  nice  people,"  said  I,  "though  I'd  rather 
be  Irish  myself." 

Anna  looked  up  quickly.  "Why?"  she  asked 
suspiciously. 

"Because  I  like  'em.  They're  warm-hearted, 
and  jolly,  and  smart.  If  I  wasn't  what  I  am,  I'd 
choose  to  be  Irish."  And  so  I  would,  though  I  am 
afraid  the  race  deserves  its  reputation  of  being 
undependable. 

Anna's  reserve  was  going  fast.  Why  is  it  that 
the  better  workers  are  so  ashamed  of  hailing  from 
old  Erin  ?  I  would  part  with  my  good-luck  penny 
to  that  man  who  could  prove  me  surely  within  the 
line  of  my  third  great-grandfather's  second  Irish 
wife,  instead  of  from  his  first,  who  was  English. 
But  that  perhaps  is  because  I  never  traveled  in  the 
witching  isle.  Anna  was  appreciative,  at  any  rate. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  with  a  quick  brightening  that 
was  most  attractive.  "Those  people  are  all  that, 
it's  true.  An'  I'll  tell  you  what  people  are  fine, 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  271 

the  Scotch-Irish.  There's  some  of  them  live  near 
my  mother  and  father,  and  they're  grand.  Not 
rich  and  living  in  big  houses,  I  don't  mean — they're 
plain,  but  they're  fine  people." 

I  approved  of  the  Scotch-Irish,  ancient  and 
modern. 

"That's  what  I  am — Scotch-Irish,"  said  Anna 
finally.  That  time  I  believed  her. 

Anna's  was  an  interesting  face,  if  it  was  clouded 
with  dissatisfaction  now  and  then.  Anna  was  a 
particular  girl,  as  she  herself  said,  and  ambitious  for 
self -improvement,  if  the  United  States  History  I 
had  seen  in  the  mess-room  be  believed.  Anna  was 
"nicht  so  dumm  wie  allein"  to  quote  Mrs.  Nicholl, 
who  spoke  in  a  different  connection. 

"  Have  you  lived  out  before  ? "  she  asked  me  next. 
"This  isn't  your  first  place?" 

"I've  been  living  out  for  'most  a  year.  I  had  a 
place  in  the  country — in  Freeland,  New  Jersey.  I 
had  an  office  place  before  that,"  I  told  her. 

"I  thought  there  was  something  like  that,"  she 
said.  "You  don't  seem  like  a  regular  livin'-out 
girl." 

"Why?" 

"I  don't  know  why,  only  you're  different — you 
don't  know  the  ways.  I  wonder  that  you  do  this 
after  anything  else.  I  wouldn't  if  I  didn't  have  to." 

"It  didn't  agree  with  my  disposition  to  sit  in  a 
chair  all  day,"  I  replied  with  perfect  truth.  "I 
feel  better  to  have  more  exercise;  besides,  I  can 
save  more  money  living  out.  And  I  don't  see 
why  this  work  isn't  as  good  as  any  other,  so  long 
as  I  do  it  well." 

"I  don't,  either;  but  people  outside  look  down 


272  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

on  us  that  do  it,"  she  argued.  "I  saw  a  girl  the 
other  day  when  I  was  out.  I  was  with  a  friend  and 
this  other  girl  was  talking  about  somebody  I  didn't 
know,  and  telling  why  she  hadn't  been  invited  to 
some  party.  'Oh,  she's  a  livin' -out  girl,'  she  said. 
'  I've  no  time  for  livin' -out  girls.'  I  was  cut  to  the 
heart,"  said  Anna.  "She  didn't  know  I  lived  out, 
and  I  wouldn't  a  had  her  know  it  then  for  the  world. 
I  felt  so  bad  I  didn't  get  over  it  for  two  days." 

"But  the  girl  wouldn't  have  talked  that  way  if 
she  had  had  sense,  Anna ;  none  of  the  outside  girls 
would.  Most  of  them  could  be  a  heap  better  off 
than  they  are,  and  not  having  it  as  comfortable  as 
we  do.  They  can't  get  anything  ahead  working  in 
stores  and  shops,  as  you  know,  and  too  many  of  them 
can't  keep  even." 

"There  isn't  one  of  them  that  could  take  a  trip 
like  that  I  took  last  summer  when  I  went  home," 
agreed  Anna,  after  reflection. 

"No,  and  that  ain't  all;  it  takes  more  head  to 
understand  housework  than  it  does  to  do  the  things 
a  good  many  of  them  do.  A  girl  don't  need  to  know 
much  to  stand  behind  a  counter  and  measure  off 
ribbon,  Anna." 

It  was  a  new  thought  to  her,  and  she  turned  it 
over  in  her  mind  awhile.  "Yes,"  she  said  finally, 
with  a  proud  lift  of  her  chin,  "I  lived  on  Spruce 
Street  five  years.  I  was  waitress.  Those  girls 
couldn't  have  done  it ;  they  wouldn't  have  known 
how  to  do  the  first  thing." 

"Exactly,"  said  I.  "And  some  of  them  never 
could  learn.  Nobody  has  any  right  to  look  down 
on  anybody  else  because  of  her  work,  if  it's  honest. 
The  best  people  know  this,  and  the  cheap  people 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB 


273 


who  don't  know  it  aren't  worth  bothering  about. 
I  never  pay  any  attention  to  them  myself. " 

After  this  talk  with  Anna  we  two  had  a  pleasant 
conversing  acquaintance  for  almost  a  week;  until  I 
unwittingly  knocked  the  life  out  of  it  with  my  own 
hand — tongue,  rather. 

The  trouble  was  brewed  in  our  cups  on  a  Monday's 
mid-morning  social,  for  I  came  to  attend  these 
functions  on  Monday  and  Tuesday  more  for  the 
sake  of  the  sisterhood  than  from  any  physical  need 
for  refreshment.  My  laundering  friends,  on  the 
contrary,  judging  from  my  own  earlier  experience, 
must  have  found  the  institution  a  very  practical 
and  welcome  help.  To  women  at  hard  labour, 
unless  after  a  heavier  breakfast  than  they  usually 
get,  a  cup  of  tea  with  bread  and  butter  in  the 
middle  of  the  morning  does  not  come  amiss. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  come  and  have  some  tea, 
ILizy  ? "  called  some  one  on  that  fatal  morning. 

"No,  thank  you,  I'm  not  going  to  drink  tea  any 
more,"  I  answered.  A  resolution  which  I  held  to 
for  seven  consecutive  days.  I  had  views  about 
eating  and  drinking  the  value  of  which  was  not 
generally  apparent.  I  held  that  tea  and  coffee  are 
necessary  only  to  those  who  work  very  hard  or  who 
have  insufficient  food.  I  did  not  reckon  myself 
under  either  head  at  that  time,  though  no  meal  was 
for  me  complete  without  one  or  the  other.  "I'm 
too  fond  of  it.  I  will  not  tie  myself  to  a  teapot  or 
other  dish  of  potations,"  said  I ;  whence  I  announced 
my  ninth  swearing-off  to  the  mystification,  of  the 
assembled  company. 

"What  will  you  drink?"  asked  the  astonished 
Tilly,  who  was  ready  to  fly  at  the  first  chance. 


274  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

' '  Timothy  has  tea ;  everybody  else  has  coffee.  I  can't 
make  another  drink  in  the  morning  for  you. " 

"I  can  get  plenty  of  water  from  the  spigot,  I 
suppose?" 

"Well,  what  of  it?  You  wouldn't  drink  just 
water?" 

"Of  course,  though  I  really  prefer  milk." 

"Well,  here,  then,  I  guess  you  can  have  it,"  and 
she  pushed  toward  me  a  bottle  that  was  setting  on 
the  table. 

"Thank  you  just  the  same,  but  I'm  afraid  Mrs. 
Hollis  doesn't  buy  milk  for  the  waitress  to  drink, "  I 
demurred  with  a  laugh. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  you  take  it,"  insisted  Tilly 
magnanimously.  "The  madam  said  we  folks  out 
here  were  to  have  all  we  wanted.  There's  always 
some  left,  anyway.  If  there  isn't,  I'll  get  some 
more." 

"  Here's  to  your  health,  then,  if  that's  the  way  of 
the  house,"  and  I  filled  my  cup. 

"Why  don't  you  take  tea?"  asked  Lilla,  the 
second  laundress.  "There's  some  in  the  pot." 

"  'Cause  I  like  this  better;  it's  better  for  the 
cistern,  too,"  I  said,  trying  to  affect  a  facetious- 
ness  after  their  sort.  "You'd  better  all  be  drink- 
ing it  instead  of  that  old  tea. " 

1 '  Oh-h-h  !  I  wouldn't  go  without  tea  ! "  protested 
Lilla  in  alarm. 

"Well,  you  don't  have  to,  of  course;  only,  it'd 
be  better  for  you  if  you  didn't  drink  it, "  I  persisted. 
"  Now  look  at  me  !  See  how  fat  I  am,  and  how  red 
my  cheeks  are.  That  is,  Anna  just  said  they  were 
red.  Then  see  how  pale  Tilly  is.  I  drink  milk; 
Tilly  drinks  tea." 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  275 

"  Lilla's  fat.  Lilla's  sheeks  are  red  and  she  drinks 
tea, "  said  Mrs.  Nicholl  triumphantly. 

"Lilla's  strong  naturally;  she  can  stand  it,"  I 
explained.  "Some  people  are  that  way;  they  can 
afford  to  live  on  tea.  Then  there  are  others,  like 
Anna,  here,  who  can  go  on  a  trip  to  Europe  when  they 
get  pale  and  thin,  stay  over  there  and  drink  milk  all 
summer  till  they  get  fat  and  rosy  again.  They  can 
afford  it,  too.  But  I  can't  go  to  Europe  to  rest 
when  I  get  tired,  so  I  have  to  stick  to  the  milk 
on  this  side." 

Anna  seemed  not  to  appreciate  my  delicate  play- 
fulness as  I  had  hoped.  Instead  of  responding  in 
kind,  she  looked  a  long  time  out  of  the  window  and 
said  nothing. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Anna  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Nothing, "  said  she,  so  quietly  that  I  knew,  alas  ! 
that  it  had  been  my  luckless  lot  to  have  cut  her  to 
the  heart. 

Tilly  turned  to  authority.  Mrs.  Nicholl  was  to  us 
as  one  at  the  head  of  her  profession.  All,  from 
Timothy  down,  admired  the  easy  skill  that  could 
turn  off  so  much  admirable  work  so  quickly.  Mrs. 
Nicholl  was  a  woman  of  judgment  besides.  She 
thought  tea  was  good  for  people  who  worked.  Lilla 
grunted  approval  and  said  "  Pooh  !"  to  me. 

I  laughed.  "It's  as  true  as  preaching,  all  I  told 
you,"  I  insisted,  still  bantering.  "I  leave  it  to 
Anna  if  it  isn't." 

"  I  don't  think  the  tea  I  drink  hurts  me, "  said  the 
deeply  injured  one.  "  If  I  did  I  wouldn't  take  it . " 

"  I  hope  it  doesn't,  Anna, "  said  I,  sincerely  apolo- 
getic. "  If  it  does  hurt  you,  you  can  feel  it  without 
me  or  anybody  else  to  help  you. " 


276  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

With  that  I  beat  an  ignoble  retreat  to  my  work 
in  the  pantry,  where  I  ruminated  on  the  surprising 
sensitiveness  of  some  people. 

"  Do  you  think  it's  good  for  you  to  drink  so  much 
tea,  Anna?"  I  had  asked  her.  "I  should  think 
you'd  feel  better  if  you  ate  more  things  instead." 

"I  guess  I  would,  Lizy.  When  I  stopped  work 
last  summer  I  was  thin  and  yellow  and  nervous,  and 
so  tired  I  couldn't  sleep;  and  it  was  nothing  but 
the  tea  that  done  it,  for  I  just  lived  on  it.  I  had 
tea  and  toast  for  breakfast,  tea  and  bread  for  lunch, 
and  the  same  thing  over  again  at  night.  There 
were  other  things  on  the  table,  of  course,  but  I 
didn't  want  'em.  It  was  so  hot  it  made  me  sick 
to  look  at  the  things.  But  when  I  got  home,  out  on 
the  farm  with  my  mother,  she  gave  me  the  milk  with 
the  thick  yellow  cream  on  top — from  our  own  cows, 
you  know ;  she  brought  me  a  big  mugful  five  or  six 
times  a  day,  and  made  me  drink  it  until  I  got  so  fat 
and  red  in  the  cheeks  you  wouldn't  know  me  for 
the  same  girl.  It  was  the  country  air,  and  being 
home  with  my  mother,  along  with  the  milk,"  she 
concluded. 

"Why  don't  you  drink  milk  now?"  I  had  asked, 
for  it  seemed  to  me  that  she  had  begun  in  a  fair 
way  to  repeat  that  experience — in  its  first  part,  at 
least. 

' ' How  can  I,  Lizy  ?    Where  can  I  get  it  ?' ' 

"Why,  from  the  milkman.  I  don't  believe  Mrs. 
Hollis  would  mind  getting  more  milk  and  less  tea, 
would  she?  I  suppose  it  would  make  some  little 
difference  in  her  bills,  though." 

"Oh— that  stuff !  That  isn't  like  the  good  rich, 
yellow  milk  they  have  at  home,  Lizy." 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  277 

''But  it's  all  there  is,  and  better  than  nothing, 
don't  you  think  ?" 

"Maybe,  for  sick  people  and  babies  that  have 
to  have  it ;  but  I  wouldn't  drink  it.  I  couldn't,  Lizy. 
I  wouldn't  ask  for  it,  anyway" 

That  was  a  few  days  ago,  but  now  Anna's  feelings 
were  hurt ;  she  was  sulking  in  her  tent  and  spoke  not. 
On  Wednesday  she  asked  Tilly,  as  we  sat  at  break- 
fast, to  see  that  the  ice-water  was  made  and  the 
beds  opened  that  evening,  for  it  was  her  time  out. 
I  thought  I  saw  some  humour  in  the  situation,  since 
in  Anna's  absence  those  duties  were  mine. 

"Will  you  please  pass  the  sugar,  Anna,"  I  asked 
her  immediately  in  quite  such  a  matter-of-fact  way 
that  the  girl  could  not  but  comply,  though  she  did 
so  silently  and  with  averted  eyes. 

She  had  not  yet  spoken,  though  during  some 
mess-room  pleasantry  she  had  not  resisted  a  sidewise, 
sheepish,  roguish,  appreciative  look  at  me.  That  one 
look  was  not  the  only  evidence  I  had  that  she  was 
ready  to  meet  overtures  for  peace.  Although  I  was 
willing  to  go  half  way,  I  was  particular  which  half 
it  should  be.  As  I  had  already  explained  to  Tilly, 
elaborately,  I  regretted  having  offended  Anna,  as  I 
supposed  I  must  have  done  over  that  tea  business, 
for  she  hadn't  spoken  since;  though  I  couldn't 
imagine  how,  for  Anna,  of  course,  had  wit  enough 
to  see  that  it  was  all  for  nonsense.  And  though 
her  not  speaking  to  me  seemed  too  childish  and 
silly  for  anything,  I  could  not  but  respect  Anna's 
wish  for  it,  until  she  showed  by  a  direct  address  her 
readiness  for  a  different  relation.  This  private 
remark  was  followed  the  next  day  by  a  free  public 
lecture.  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation,  it  came 


278  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

in  so  pat  at  the  next  morning's  breakfast.  It  may 
have  delayed  the  time  of  reconciliation  a  few 
hours. 

"You  aren't  a  bit  sensitive,  are  you?"  said  Tilly, 
whose  tongue  wagged  forever  on  personalities. 
"People  can  say  anything  to  you;  you  never  mind." 

I  lifted  my  shoulders.  "I  can't  afford  to  let  Tom, 
Dick  and  Harry  make  me  miserable  whenever  they 
like — I'd  never  have  any  fun  at  all,"  I  explained. 
"I  was  born  sensitive  enough,  though;  my  feelings 
were  always  getting  hurt  and  laid  up  for  repairs. 
But  it's  too  hard  work  to  live  that  way  in  this 
world,  I  found;  besides  which,  it's  silly.  We  aren't 
any  of  us  so  important  that  other  people  can  always 
be  thinking  of  us  every  time  they  open  their  mouths 
—whether  we're  likely  to  be  hurt.  And  when  I 
learned  not  to  fuss  about  what  other  people  said, 
or  about  what  I  thought  they  were  going  to  say, 
I  began  to  take  comfort  in  living.  If  folks  are 
pleasant  and  speak,  I'm  glad;  it's  much  nicer  so; 
if  they're  stuffy  and  don't  speak,  I'm  still  glad 
they're  having  their  own  way — and  much  good 
may  it  do  'em.  I  have  pleasanter  things  to  think 
about,  and  more  important.  It  generally  is  the 
trifling,  no  'count  things  that  people  get  the  sulks 
over.  Did  you  ever  notice  it  ?" 

I  was  busy  with  my  breakfast,  but  Anna,  I  noticed, 
became  much  interested  in  lawn  perspective  through 
the  window  opposite.  She  spoke  the  next  day. 

Did  not  the  warmth  and  heartiness  of  my  welcome 
there,  the  delicacy  with  which  it  had  been  made 
apparent  that  the  other  two  were  two  and  self- 
sufficient,  deserve  some  return?  That  my  noble 
generosity  should  prompt  payment  in  rough  helps 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  279 

to  larger  vision  and  more  agreeable  ways  was  their 
good  fortune. 

(Priggish,  but  excusable,  circumstances  con- 
sidered.) 

Such  a  free,  aggressive  bearing  toward  my  associate 
workers  could  not  but  be  startling  when  I  stopped  to 
think  of  it.  It  was  so  entirely  without  precedent, 
though  a  natural  enough  result  of  the  situation. 
Frieda  had  been  to  me  always  as  a  moral  crutch, 
and  though  she  frequently  lost  her  temper  at  my 
stupidity,  the  difference  was  but  momentary;  we 
were  comrades  and  got  on  famously  together.  But 
at  the  Hollises'  I  began  to  walk  alone  from  the  first, 
all  unpractised  as  I  was  in  the  responsibilities  of 
my  profession.  True,  I  could  ask  advice  from 
Tilly  and  get  it  more  readily  than  I  could  a 
plain  statement  of  family  custom.  But  the  for- 
mer was  no  aid,  which  the  latter,  had  she  been 
capable  of  divulging  an  item  now  and  then,  would 
have  been.  Poor  Tilly  !  Her  good  intentions  kept 
pace  with  her  capacity,  I  am  assured.  Nature 
denies  her  best  gifts  to  some. 

"Another  week  and  the  madam  will  be  coming 
home  !  I  can  hardly  wait — on  poor  Miss  Caroline's 
account  more'n  anything,"  she  declared.  "Won't 
you  be  glad  to  have  the  missus  back  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  I;  "the  family  seems  to  need  her." 

"Ain't  you  glad  for  yourself?  Don't  you  love 
the  madam  ? ' ' 

"Well,  I  can't  say  that  I  do  love  her— yet,  Tilly, 
though  doubtless  I  may  when  I  get  to  know  her. 
I  don't  feel  acquainted  yet." 

Tilly  opened  her  eyes.  "You  queer,  funny 
thing!"  she  said.  "Why,  I  didn't  have  to  get 


2§o  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

acquainted;  I  knew  her  right  away  and  loved  her 
the  moment  I  clapped  eyes  on  her.  And  she  wrote 
me  one  of  the  sweetest  notes  !  I've  got  it  yet,  put 
away;  I'm  going  to  keep  it  always." 

"How  long  have  you  been  here,  Tilly?"  I 
couldn't  help  some  curiosity  about  the  length  of 
such  fervent  devotion. 

"Three  weeks.  I'd  been  here  two  weeks  when 
you  came." 

"'Oh,  then  you  are  new  !  But  it  doesn't  take  long 
to  get  used  to  things." 

"Oh,  I  can  go  by  myself  all  right  now,  but  for 
the  first  week  I  thought  I  never  could  get  on  here ; 
everything  was  so  strange.  I  didn't  know  about 
the  boiler,  and  they  want  things  so  different  from 
the  way  I've  always  had  'em  at  home;  but  the 
madam  came  down  and  showed  me  everything, 
and  now  I  know  myself." 

"  I  suppose  you  knew  Mrs.  Hollis  or  some  one  who 
recommended  you?" 

"No,  I  didn't.  I  just  picked  up  the  paper  one 
morning  and  happened  to  see  the  advertisement 
from  here  for  a  plain  cook !  *  There,  mamma,' 
I  said,  *  I  believe  I  could  get  that  place.  It's  near 
here,  and  I'm  going  to  try  for  it,  anyway.'  So  I  put 
on  my  hat  and  came  along." 

"And  got  the  place?" 

"  Yes ;  though  if  I'd  known  all  I  know  now  I  don't 
believe  I'd  been  so  fierce  for  coming.  There  was 
somebody  else  before  me,  but  Miss  Caroline  said  I'd 
better  wait,  Mrs.  Hollis  might  want  to  see  me.  So 
I  waited  and  waited  a  long  time;  and  by  and  by 
madam  came  down  smiling,  and  she  looked  at  me. 

"'Well,  what  can  you  do?'  she  said.     'I  think  I 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  281 

can  cook/  I  told  her.  Then  she  wanted  to  know 
where  I  had  cooked  and  about  my  experience. 
'  All  the  experience  I've  got  I  got  in  my  home,'  I  said. 
'Then  you  never  lived  out  before?'  I  said  'No, 
ma'am.'  l  You've  never  done  any  work  except  for 
yourself  or  for  your  own  ? '  I  said  '  No '  again. 
'Then  you  don't  know  anything  at  all  about  the 
ways  of  other  people — from  your  own  experience,  I 
mean  ? ' 

"I  had  to  say  no  to  that,  too;  but  I  was  dis- 
appointed, for  I  didn't  believe  I  was  going  to  get 
the  place,  after  all.  But  the  missus  was  thinking. 
'  Of  course  I  want  somebody  who's  had  experience 
and  knows  all  about  everything,'  she  said.  'But 
I  don't  know  where  I  can  get  such  a  person  now 
who  would  suit  me  in  other  ways.  Experience  is 
only  one  requirement,  after  all;  and  no  cook  would 
have  it,  I  suppose,  if  somebody  didn't  take  her 
and  give  her  a  chance  to  get  it.  We  don't  bring 
experience  into  the  world  by  the  trunkful,  when  we 
come.  But  you'll  find  it  very  different  working 
for  another  woman  in  her  house  from  what  it  has 
been  in  your  own  home.  Have  you  thought  about 
that?  That  will  be  true  wherever  you  go.  Even 
with  people  who  do  their  best  to  have  everything 
right  and  plan  considerately,  some  things  about  the 
life  are  bound  to  be  unpleasant,  and  you'll  mind 
them  the  more  because  you've  never  been  used  to 
anything  of  the  sort ! ' 

"'Yes,  I've  thought  over  all  that  and  made  up 
my  mind  to  take  things  as  they  are  and  put  up  with 
what  I  don't  like,'  I  said. 

"Then  we  talked  over  things  a  bit,  what  Mrs. 
Hollis  expected  in  a  cook,  why  I  wanted  to  do  this 


282  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

work,  and  so  on."  [The  story  of  domestic  infelicity 
came  in  here,  and  I'll  wager  my  new  winter  hat- 
not  presented  by  Mrs.  Scharff.] 

"'Well,  I  don't  know  what  to  do,'  the  madam 
said.  Td  almost  engaged  a  girl  when  you  came, 
but  I'm  not  quite  satisfied.  Do  you  think  you'll  be 
strong  enough  ?  The  days  are  long,  you  know,  and 
the  family  big.' 

"'I  can't  promise  not  to  be  sick,  because,  of 
course,  I  don't  know  about  that ;  but  I  think  I'll  be 
able  to  do  your  work  all  right :  I'm  used  to  working.' 

"'You  can't  tell  whether  or  not  you'll  be  sick,  of 
course.  We  can't  any  of  us  tell  that  beforehand. 
But  suppose  I  decide  against  this  other  girl  in  your 
favour;  you  may  go  home,  think  the  matter  ov%r, 
and  decide  that  it  isn't  best  for  you  to  try  this  work 
after  all.  Then  where  am  I?  Or  perhaps  you'd 
come  and  try  it,  and  then  after  five  or  six  weeks 
decide  you  didn't  like  it  well  enough  to  stay.  That 
would  be  worse  yet  for  me.' 

"'No,'  I  said,  'I've  fully  made  up  my  mind  to 
come  if  you'll  have  me,  and  give  the  work  a  fair 
trial,  but  I  don't  want  to  come  before  Monday — it 
was  Thursday  then.  I've  got  some  things  I  want  to 
do,  and — well,  I  want  Sunday  at  home.' 

'"Yes,  of  course,'  she  said.  'Now,  I'll  tell  you 
what  I'll  do.  You  go  home,  think  this  matter  over 
again  and  talk  it  over  with  your  folks  until  Saturday. 
If  you  change  your  mind,  if  you  think  you'd  like 
some  other  kind  of  work  better,  or  if  you  decide  that, 
after  all,  it's  better  for  you  not  to  come  here,  write 
me  a  postal  on  Saturday  morning  so  I'll  get  it  in 
the  early  afternoon.  And  I'll  think  it  over,  too, 
and  if  I  decide  that  it  is  too  great  a  risk  for  me  to 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  283 

try  one  who  is  not  experienced  and  who  looks  no 
stronger  than  you — for  I  must  follow  the  plan  that 
seems  best  for  me,  as  well  help  you  to  what  seems 
best  for  you  (I'd  rather  try  you  than  this  other 
girl,  and  I  wouldn't  hesitate  except  for  these  two 
reasons) — but  if  I  decide  that  it  is  best  for  us  to  look 
further,  I'll  write  to  you  before  Saturday  morning. 
Do  you  agree  to  that  ?  Shall  it  be  settled  that  way  ?' 

"I  said  yes,  that  satisfied  me. 

"Now,  remember,'  said  the  missus,  smiling,  'if  I 
don't  hear  from  you  I  shall  think  you're  still  want- 
ing to  come  and  stay  a  reasonable  time — unless  the 
work  proves  too  hard  for  you — and,  well,  I'll  write  to 
you  anyway.' 

/ '  So  I  went  home  and  on  Saturday  I  got  her  letter ; 
and  I  read  it  three  times.  I've  got  it  upstairs  in 
a  box  of  my  things  now.  I  came  Monday  night, 
and  here  I  am,  and  that's  how  it  happened. " 

"You  like  it  here  pretty  well,  don't  you?" 

"Yes,  for  the  most  part.  There's  some  things, 
of  course — there's  a  good  deal  of  work  to  be  done. 
But  it's  sure  and  steady  money,  and  nothing  to  pay 
out,  anyway.  I  tell  you  what,  though,  I  had  a  heavy 
heart  that  first  night.  My  son  came  as  far  as  the 
corner  with  me,  and  as  long  as  he  was  with  me  I  kept 
up  pretty  well ;  but  when  I  said  good-by  to  him  and 
came  up  the  walk,  I — I  wanted  to  call  out  to  him  to 
wait  and  I'd  go  back  with  him.  He'd  a-waited  all 
right,  for  he  hates  to  have  me  here.  But  I  knew  that 
would  be  foolish  after  I  decided  the  other  way,  and 
the  folks  would  be  expecting  me  and  all ;  so  I  came  on. 
When  I  got  here  I  found  Anna,  and  we  got  to  talking. 
That  cheered  me  up  some,  but  when  I  come  to  go 
to  bed  it  all  come  back  to  me  and  I  was  awful  home- 


284  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

sick.  I  thought :  'Can  I  ever  stand  it  ?  I'm  afraid  I 
can't.'  I  never  slept  a  bit  that  night ;  my  heart  kept 
a-thumpin'  and  I  kept  a-worryin'  for  fear  I  wouldn't 
know  how  to  get  breakfast ;  and  when  morning  came 
I  was  so  tired  I  didn't  see  how  I  could  pull  myself 
together  to  get  through  the  day. 

"  'Now,  Tilly,  this'll  never  do/  says  I  to  myself. 
'You've  got  your  livin'  to  get,  and  you've  come  here 
to  try  this  work,  and  it's  no  time  to  be  acting  foolish. 
You  just  pay  attention  to  what  you  got  to  do,  and 
do  it.'  You  wouldn't  see  me  cuttin'  up  so  around 
here  if  it  wa'n't  to  keep  from  thinkin'. " 

Tilly's  story,  but  not  all  of  Tilly's  words — so  many 
superfluities  and  redundancies  are  beyond  me.  A 
more  modest  ambition  is  satisfied  with  a  few  leading 
points  in  the  industrial  metamorphosis  of  Lady 
Tilly — for  Tilly  was  a  lady,  she  told  me  so,  though 
that  comes  later — and  the  evidence  that  Tilly  and  I 
had  at  least  one  thing  in  common — symptoms  on 
beginning  to  live  out.  They  tallied  beautifully, 
despite  my  advantage  of  previous  experience  in 
bartering  labour  for  wage. 

But  Tilly  brought  a  spirited  originality  to  her 
work  which  I  could  hardly  appreciate  in  full, 
though  she  defended  it  bravely.  A  constant  aim 
after  the  conventional  did  not  incline  me  to  the 
serving  of  baked  potatoes  on  a  platter  amid 
many  celery  tops  of  luxuriant  and  lusty  growth. 

"  What  made  you  do  that,  Tilly  ? "  I  objected. 

"  It's  my  work  to  dish  the  things ;  Mrs.  Hollis  said 
so." 

"But  why  didn't  you  put  those  things  in  the 
vegetable  dish  I  took  out  for  you?" 

"Those  things  are  potatoes,  I'd  have  you  know. " 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  285 

"Yes,  thank  you.  But  I've  known  a  baked 
potato  on  sight  for  a  good  many  years.'*  I 
merely  stated  the  fact.  "  I  don't  know  what  made 
you  fix  them  up  that  way,  though. " 

"  I  thought  they  looked  pretty  this  way. " 

"  So  they  do  if  you  like  them  so.  Only  they  look 
queer  to  me.  I  never  saw  them  like  that  before.  Do 
the  family  like  baked  potatoes  served  that  way  ? " 

"How  do  I  know?  Why  don't  you  take  'em  in 
and  see." 

"Because  I'd  rather  not  unless  that  arrangement 
is  especially  ordered.  There's  to  be  a  strange  lady 
at  lunch." 

"Well,  ain't  she  good  enough  to  eat  what  the 
family  have?"  demanded  Tilly.  "When  I  had  my 
own  house  and  had  company,  I  didn't  think  any  old 
thing  would  do  for  'em.  People  want  things  nicer 
when  they  have  company  and  I  fixed  that  for  a  little 
extra  on  purpose.  You  take  'em  in.  I  guess  I  know 
something  as  well  as  you. " 

"Doubtless  you  know  much  that  I  never  will 
know,"  I  replied,  "but  there  are  still  some  things 
that  I  can  tell  you,  namely  and  for  instance:  this 
arrangement  does  not  seem  suitable  to  me,  and 
unless  it  was  especially  ordered  by  Miss  Jean  I  will 
not  take  it  into  the  dining-room. " 

"  I'll  take  it  in  myself,  then. " 

"Very  well;  and  it'll  be  your  lookout  afterward. " 

But  she  thought  better  of  it  and  made  the  desired 
change,  which  was  clever  of  her. 

To  prepare  for  and  help  serve  a  meal  intelligently 
one  needs  to  know  of  what  that  meal  is  to  consist ; 
or  possibly  it  was  because  I  had  had  so  little  experi- 
ence that  I  needed  to  know.  But  that,  queerly 


286  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

enough,  was  the  one  thing  Tilly  chose  to  guard 
as  her  great  heart  secret.  Just  why,  omniscient 
Providence  only  knows.  Tilly  herself  could  not 
have  told,  I  am  sure. 

" What's  for  dinner  to-night,  Tilly?"  I  asked 
unsuspectingly,  the  evening  of  my  second  day. 

"Why,  it  isn't  dinner  time  yet. " 

"True,  but  I  want  to  put  out  the  dishes  to  warm. " 

"  All  right,  there's  room. " 

"Yes,  but  do  you  want  a  big  platter,  a  little 
platter,  two  vegetable  dishes,  or  six  soup  plates 
or  not?" 

"I'll  use  what  you  bring. " 

"  I  want  to  bring  what  you're  going  to  need. " 

Silence,  which  I  break : 

"I  suppose  you  know  what  you're  going  to  send 
in?" 

"  Why,  yes ;  steak  and  potatoes. " 

"What  else?" 

"Peas." 

"What  else?" 

"Nothin'  else." 

"Goin'  to  have  soup?" 

"Why,  yes,"  impatiently;  "there's  always  soup." 

"They  didn't  have  it  last  night." 

"No,  of  course;  last  night  it  was  sauerkraut." 

"Was  any  vegetable  ordered  besides  potatoes 
and  peas?" 

"Ain't  that  enough  for  you?  How  many  things 
do  you  want  'em  to  have." 

But  I  declined  to  make  it  a  personal  matter.  "I 
want  'em  to  have  what  they  want,  whether  it's  one 
or  eleven.  I'm  not  passing  remarks  on  the  family 
table,  Tilly ;  I'm  only  trying  to  find  out  what  you're 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  287 

going  to  send  into  the  dining-room,  so  I  can  get  my 
dishes  ready  and  do  the  rest  of  my  work.  That's 
the  one  thing  I  want." 

Then  I  learned  that  there  was  no  third  vegetable, 
and  after  a  brief  rest  I  renew  the  attack,  to  get,  if 
I  may,  the  dessert. 

"Oh,  that's  my  work.  The  dessert's  all  made; 
you  do  only  the  cold  desserts." 

"I  have  to  put  it  on  the  table,  though,  and  I  want 
to  know  whether  it  goes  in  plates  or  saucers,  or 
whether  it's  served  in  the  pantry  or  at  the  table." 

"Why,  I  don't  know.  I  can't  tell  you  those 
things,"  vacantly. 

"If  you'd  tell  me  what  thing  it  is — pudding,  pie 
or  ice-cream — I  might  decide  those  other  things 
myself." 

"Oh,  could  you?"  innocently.  "Well,  you  don't 
have  to  dish  it  up.  It's  already  in  the  dishes — 
I  forgot  that." 

"Well,  do  they  eat  it  with  forks  or  spoons  ?" 

"I  don't  know;  I  never  watched:  I  can't  when 
I'm  busy  here  in  the  kitchen.  I  don't  see  what 
difference  it  makes  to  you,  anyway." 

"It  wouldn't  make  any  if  I  knew  what  I  ought  to 
lay  out  for  'em." 

"Oh,  well,  I  guess  they  always  have  taken  for  it 
just  what  they  wanted.  I  don't  believe  any  girl 
has  to  decide  those  things  for  this  family." 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  decide  anything  for  the 
family,  nor  have  I  any  wish  to  interfere  with  their 
preference,  though  it  should  be  for  pick-axes. 
What's  the  name  of  the  dessert  you  have  made 
for  to-night  ?  I'm  going  to  find  out  if  I  have  to  ask 
Miss  Caroline." 


288  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Miss  Caroline?  She  don't  know;  the  missus 
ordered  it." 

"Perhaps  Miss  Caroline  could  find  out  for  me, 
though.  You  wouldn't  like  to  refuse  her  if  she 
should  ask,  I  suppose?" 

The  little  cook's  eyes  opened.  "No,  I  wouldn't 
refuse  Miss  Caroline,"  she  said.  "It's  junket." 

"Whereabouts  is  it  ?" 

"Why,  down  in  the  ice-chest." 

After  much  poking  around  I  found  it ;  and  then  I 
drew  a  long  breath  and  wondered  how  it  had  been 
with  little  Frank. 

In  such  wise  did  the  struggle  open  and  on  such 
lines  did  it  develop.  There  was  variety  of  detail, 
but  in  character  it  knew  no  change.  I  resolved  to 
reason  with  Tilly. 

"Why  are  you  so  unwilling  to  tell  me  what  you're 
going  to  have  for  dinner?  What  difference  can  it 
make  to  you?  You  have  a  reason,  though,  of 
course." 

"No,  I  haven't;  there  isn't  any  reason." 

"Of  course,  I  know,  Tilly,  you  wouldn't  be  so 
simple  as  to  make  all  this  fuss  every  day  for  nothing. 
There  must  be  a  reason,  and  I  want  to  know  it; 
it  is  only  fair  that  I  should." 

She  offered  the  opinion  that  it  was  I  who  had 
made  the  "fuss,"  a  fallacy  I  tried  to  disclose  to  her 
without  loss  of  time. 

"Well,  I — yes,  there  is  a  reason:  I  don't  see 
why  you  have  to  know." 

"Why  should  I  take  the  trouble  to  ask  if  I  didn't  ?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  wondered  about  that  myself. 
I — I  thought  you  wanted  something  to  talk  about." 

Then  I  explained  to  Tilly  at  length,  and  with  all 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  289 

the  perspicuity  I  was  able,  that  it  was  not  a  craving 
for  conversation,  but  a  thirst  for  knowledge  which 
led  me  to  address  her;  that  sometime,  after  I  had 
been  many  years  a  waitress,  I  might  be  able  to 
arrange  correctly  for  serving  pie  with  the  fingers 
and  roast  beef  with  a  spoon,  but  that  my  present 
experience  was  all  too  meager. 

"Is  it  my  place  to  tell  you  what's  ordered?  Is 
that  part  of  the  cook's  work?  The  missus  didn't 
say  anything  to  me  about  it." 

"The  cook  I  worked  with  before  always  told  me. 
I  have  to  know;  and  as  the  orders  are  given  to 
you,  it  looks  to  me  as  if  it  were  your  place  to  tell." 

"Yes,  the  orders  are  given  to  me,"  she  repeated 
complacently.  "But  little  Frank  never  asked  me 
those  things  you  do,  and  he  got  along." 

"But  I'm  not  so  smart  as  little  Frank,"  I  reminded 
her. 

"No,"  said  Tilly.  "All  right,"  and  she  promised 
amendment. 

There  was  amendment.  When  I  did  not  overhear 
the  order  given,  Tilly  would  enlighten  me  willingly 
on  all  points  but  one.  One  thing  she  ever  reserved 
to  spring  upon  me  the  last  minute  as  a  coup  de 
chef. 

"You're  late  about  fixing  your  salad,  ain't  you, 
Lizy  ?  Miss  Jean  wants  it  for  to-night,  you  know," 
might  be  her  patronizing  reminder  at  quarter  past 
six,  when  I  already  had  enough  to  keep  me  busy 
until  dinner  hour. 

I  of  course  had  not  known  that  Miss  Jean  wanted 
salad  that  night,  though  I  had  tried  to  find  out 
an  hour  earlier.  Contrary  to  the  custom  at  the 
Scharffs',  salad  was  not  an  indispensable. 


29o  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

But  Tilly  said  she  forgot  to  tell  me.  How  could 
she?  I  made  no  remark,  but  tore  around  till  my 
face  blazed  to  make  the  extra  time. 

Twice  Tilly  played  upon  me  a  trick  of  that  sort, 
and  then  once  again.  But  the  third  time  the  dinner 
waited  while  I  took  my  time,  and  Tilly  waited  with 
it.  Tilly  didn't  like  to  wait. 

"  It's  half  past  and  I'm  all  ready, "  she  announced 
complacently.  "  That's  one  thing  I  always  look  out 
for — to  be  on  time." 

The  next  day  I  "  looked  out"  to  ask  Miss  Jean  for 
duplicate  orders,  and  on  that  ground  there  was  peace 
until  Mrs.  Hollis  came  back. 

I  asked  Mrs.  Hollis  for  duplicate  orders,  too, 
averring  that  it  was  next  to  impossible  for  me  to 
get  anything  out  of  the  cook. 

She  said,  "Yes,  certainly,"  but  knowing  the 
request  for  a  case  of  kitchen  spite,  and  having  many 
cares  upon  her  mind,  she  forgot  it.  While  I,  hav- 
ing preferred  my  request  with  the  reason  for  it, 
felt  that  I  had  done  enough ;  whence  there  arose  a 
passing  difficulty  the  day  Miss  Caroline's  friends 
came  to  lunch. 

They  came  on  a  Tuesday,  when  Mrs.  Hollis  had 
been  at  home  about  ten  days.  Mrs.  Hollis  told  me 
they  were  coming,  as  I  stood  at  the  ironing  table 
for  a  second  bout  with  my  legacy  from  the  departed 
nurse.  The  napkins  that  fell  to  me  from  that  week's 
wash  numbered  five  dozen.  But  Mrs.  Hollis  could 
not  tell  me  then  how  many  guests  I  must  get  ready 
for,  and  she  had  whisked  off  upstairs  again  before  I 
realized  that  she  hadn't  told  me  what  to  get  ready. 

''Company  for  lunch,  Lizy,"  called  Tilly  from 
the  kitchen. 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  291 

"  Um  !  What  do  we  have  to  get  ready  for  'em?" 
I  queried. 

"Only  what  we  have  all  the  time,  Lizy,"  replied 
Tilly. 

"  Nothing  different  from  usual  ? " 

"  If  there  is,  I  ain't  heard  of  it,  Lizy. " 

"  Is  there  to  be  any  salad  or  celery  ? " 

"I  guess  not;  the  madam  didn't  say  a  word 
about  it." 

4 'Since  it's  only  company  for  lunch,  perhaps  I 
can  finish  my  third  dozen  this  morning, "  I  thought. 
But  it  was  not  possible.  Before  that  happy  con- 
summation, I  must  needs  consult  Mrs.  Hollis  on  the 
matter  of  a  table-cloth,  there  being  none  in  the 
drawer  of  quite  the  right  length. 

"  I'll  be  down  to  help  you  with  it  in  just  a  minute, " 
said  Mrs.  Hollis.  "I'm  sorry  to  have  kept  you  wait- 
ing even  this  few  minutes,"  she  said,  appearing  a 
bit  later  with  the  company  soup-spoons  in  her  hand. 
"  But  you're  all  ready  except  the  table,  aren't  you  ?" 

I  scented  a  delinquency.  "  Wh — what  should  be 
ready?"  I  stammered. 

"Why,  you  have  the  salad  and  the  celery  all 
cleaned  and  ready,  haven't  you?"  she  repeated  as 
we  spead  a  chosen  cloth  together. 

"No-o, "  said  I,  slowly.  "I  didn't  know  you 
were  going  to  have  'em. " 

Mrs.  Hollis  looked  a  trifle  irritated.  "  You'll  have 
to  hurry,  then, "  she  said.  "  Didn't  Tilly  tell  you  ? " 

I  did  have  to  hurry,  for  though  I  had  allowed  am- 
ple time  in  which  to  get  ready  for  company  to  lunch, 
there  was  hardly  enough  to  get  ready  a  luncheon  for 
company.  I  was  none  the  less  annoyed  that  Mrs. 
Hollis  hurriedly  worked  with  me,  though  she  did  it 


292  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

quite  as  a  matter  of  course.  (Tilly  had  told  me  that 
she  or  Mrs.  Hollis  or  somebody  always  had  to  help 
little  Frank  with  a  dinner.)  Without  the  madam 
things  could  not  possibly  have  been  ready  on  time 
that  noon.  But  the  work  was  mine,  and  I  was  equal 
to  it,  or  would  have  been  could  I  have  known  the 
plan  in  season.  That  the  madam  should  have  had 
to  help  me  was  accepted  as  a  humiliation  undeserved. 
Besides,  I  like  everybody  out  of  the  way  when  I'm 
in  a  hurry. 

''When  in  the  last  four  weeks  have  we  had  a 
luncheon  like  this  that  you  tell  me  it  is  the  same  as 
every  day  ?"  I  asked  Tilly  with  superlative  mildness, 
as  at  three  o'clock  I  sat  down  to  the  mess  remnants 
twice  left. 

"What's  the  matter?"  she  asked  quickly. 
"Haven't  we  had  all  the  things  before?  Soup, 
chops,  peas,  French  fries,  and  the  fruit  pudding- 
there  wasn't  a  thing  new. " 

"No  one  thing  was  new,  true.  But  the  usual 
lunch  in  this  house  as  I  have  known  it  has  not  been 
of  four  courses  with  after-dinner  coffee  on  the  end, " 
I  explained  wearily,  beginning  to  eat. 

"Oh,  was  that  what  you  meant ?  I  thought  you 
was  a-thinkin'  about  what  I  had  to  cook — if  I  had 
to  bother  with  anything  new. " 

The  surety  of  extenuating  circumstances  in  the 
case  against  Tilly's  "man"  have  ever  prevented  my 
complete  sympathy  with  his  deserted  wife.  Though 
I  was  not  guilty  of  a  question  or  remark  upon  the 
matrimonial  misunderstanding  while  I  was  waiter- 
girl  for  Mrs.  Hollis,  mine  was  not  in  the  least  a 
silence  of  self-denial.  Save  for  the  single  reference 
to  "things  as  I  used  to  have  'em"  which  Tilly  once 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  293 

T«ade  to  me  personally,  her  public  recitals  at  mess 
disclosed  all  the  data  I  have — enough  to  touch  upon 
every  period  of  the  developing  estrangement,  I  feel 
sure. 

Mr.  Tilly's  reported  doings  were  not  of  the  sort 
that  commend  a  man  pleasantly  to  the  wife  of  his 
bosom — or  to  any  right-minded  person,  for  that 
matter.  But  it  was  only  one  of  many  which  Mrs. 
Tilly  could  not  generously  bear.  It  was  the  last 
straw,  she  said.  The  illustrative  proverb,  had  I 
chosen  it,  would  have  been  different.  But  then,  the 
extenuating  circumstance  was  making  me  troubles 
of  my  own. 

Mr.  Tilly's  blame  is  justly  heavy,  I  doubt  not,  but 
when  I  would  consider  the  pathos  of  Mrs.  Tilly's 
sorrows  invariably  there  come  unbidden  my  own 
memories  of  Mrs.  Tilly  herself,  an  extenuating  cir- 
cumstance if  ever  there  was  one,  and  her  white  row. 
Just  how  much  the  winds  of  justice  will  be  tempered 
to  those  men  who  have  to  take  one  and  perhaps  three 
meals  daily  opposite  a  woman  in  curl-papers  is  yet 
unrevealed. 

Fondness  for  curl-papers  wasn't  Tilly's  only 
weakness,  to  return  to  our  standing  contention. 
A  wary  combatant  would  not  have  invited  to 
pitched  battle  on  a  day  that  had  been  burdened 
with  Wednesday's  silver  and  a  third  instalment 
of  Tuesday's  endless  napkins.  But  Tilly — poor 
thing !  Tilly  said  there  would  be  steak,  baked 
beans  and  potatoes  for  dinner.  The  usual  platter, 
she  said,  would  be  too  big,  so  I  gave  her  a  smaller. 

"There'll  be  pork  with  the  beans,"  she  said. 

"But  it'll  go  in  the  vegetable  dish  along  with  'em, 
same  as  always,  I  suppose  ?" 


294  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Mistress  Tilly  answered  not,  even  unto  the  second 
asking. 

Nothing  means  yes,  I've  been  told  by  little  people 
who  get  coveted  permissions  by  teasing.  Nor  did  there 
come  to  me  a  contradictory  thought  or  recollection 
from  having  idly  watched  the  cook  peek  into  the 
oven  at  a  dripping-pan  full  of  beans  with  a  good- 
sized  roll  of  fresh  pork  in  the  middle. 

"Is  this  all  the  meat,  Tilly?"  I  asked,  a  little  per- 
plexed, as  the  cook  gave  me  only  one  steak  for  the 
dining-room,  instead  of  the  customary  twain.  "Short 
commons  to-night,  eh  ?  I  say,  isn't  there  any  more 
meat  of  any  kind  to  go  in?"  For  there  were  the 
usual  seven  people  to  be  served. 

"That's  all  I  can  give  you  now,"  replied  Tilly, 
pausing  with  her  pan  of  gravy  held  aloft.  "And 
it's  enough  for'  em,  too.  You're  so  afraid  we'll  have 
something  out  here  you  can't  sit  still !"  she  finished 
spitefully. 

"Well,  now,"  said  I,  taking  umbrage  without 
loss  of  time,  "you're  quite  as  much  mistaken  as 
though  you'd  lost  your  best  boiled  shirt.  Kindly 
put  that  gravy  on  there  if  you're  going  to,  and 
make  less  noise."  For  the  kitchen  door  was  open 
and  the  sound  of  squabbling  has  power  to  impair 
digestion,  they  say. 

I  set  the  steak  in  front  of  Mr.  Hollis  broadside  to, 
and  going  back  to  Tilly  demanded  potatoes. 

"No;  this  next,"  said  she  amiably,  pushing 
toward  me  a  roll  of  roast  pork,  also  on  a  platter. 
"This  goes  in,  too." 

"And  what  do  you  call  that?"  I  demanded 
severely. 

Tilly  called  it  by  name.     If  I  did  not  in  my  turn 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  295 

call  Tilly  by  names  it  was  because  I  was  too  angry 
to  think  of  any  suitable.  Inspired  by  the  Scharff 
models,  I  proceeded  to  give  the  important  little  cook 
such  a  dressing  down  as  she  stood  much  in  need  of. 
Some  plain  truth  I  spoke  to  her  in  terms  of  wrath. 
I  should  feel  easier  to-day  if  the  door  behind  me  had 
been  latched. 

For  one  instant  Tilly  was  speechless  with  surprise. 
But  she  recovered.  "I'm  a  lady,  I'd  have  you 
know,  and  I'm  going  to  be  treated  like  one,"  she 
piped  up  noisily. 

"Oh,  are  you  !"  said  I,  eyeing  as  sarcastically  as  I 
was  able  the  small  figure  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
table,  drawn  straight  with  defiance.  "I'm  afraid 
you're  lonesome." 

"Yes,  I  am  a  lady,"  she  snapped. 

Declining  to  discuss  that  point,  I  suggested  that 
it  would  be  very  well  for  her  to  mend  her  ways 
beginning  from  that  moment.  "And  if  you  don't 
do  better  on  this  matter  I'll  know  the  reason  why  !" 
with  which  vague  threat  I  retired,  taking  the  pork 
with  me,  as  mad  as  the  March  hare. 

For  what  was  the  difference  to  me,  that  I  should 
have  been  so  disturbed  by  Tilly's  coup?  None  at 
all,  except  that  I  found  it  rather  awkward  to  hold 
one  platter  while  I  turned  the  other  that  the  carver 
might  have  both  before  him.  And  that  such  a 
performance  is  not  considered  good  form. 

It  was  really  the  weariness  of  the  flesh  and  the 
accumulation  of  irritation  more  than  the  single 
surprise,  unwarrantable  though  it  was,  which  so 
upset  my  serenity.  For  myself,  I  had  the  grace  to 
be  secretly  ashamed  in  due  time,  but  on  Tilly's 
account  there  was  not  the  first  apologetic  twinge. 


296  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

I  had  been  stupid,  in  truth,  but  Tilly  had  invited 
battle.  She  was  worsted,  and  retreated  to  nurse 
her  tearful  wrath  in  the  friendly  darkness  of  the 
mess-room.  But  mine  had  not  been  the  complete 
victory  it  was ;  I  had  not  carried  Tilly's  scalp  at  my 
belt  had  not  the  friendly  Timothy  wrought  the 
good  work  to  the  finish. 

Timothy  had  been  a  nearby  witness  to  our  engage- 
ment. What  he  thought  about  it  I  don't  know, 
further  than  that  he  offered  privately  to  explain 
to  the  madam  if  it  had  made  me  any  trouble  in  the 
dining-room;  and  that  he  appreciated  the  mutual 
advantage  coming  to  those  who  work  well  together. 

"You  think  you  can  manage  your  work,  but  you 
can't  work  with  anybody,"  I  heard  him  tell  Tilly 
afterward  while  I  sat  at  my  silent  and  solitary 
dinner.  That  he  was  answering  complaint  I  do  not 
doubt.  "You  can't  begin  to  get  along  till  you 
learn  to  work  with  folks."  Timothy,  being  a  trou- 
sered brother,  was  listened  to  submissively.  ' ' That's 
just  as  important  in  this  kind  o'  work  as  to  know 
how  yourself.  Those  three  girls  that  used  to  be 
here  had  lots  more  time  than  you  people  do.  They 
had  most  every  afternoon,  and  every  evening  by 
eight  o'clock  everything  was  done  and  all  three 
of  'em  sittin'  in  that  room  there,  sewin'  or  readin' 
or  talkin'.  They  did  jus'  as  much  work  as  you  do, 
an'  more,  because  they  had  more  people  to  work 
for  than's  ever  been  here  since  you  come;  but  they 
played  right  into  one  another's  hands  all  the  time: 
that  way  they  made  time  and  easy  work. 

Tilly  was  curious  to  know  how,  and  Timothy  was 
not  unwilling. 

"When  th'  waitress  was  in  th'  dinin'-room  with 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  297 

th'  soup  and  meat,  th'  girls  out  here'd  be  washing 
up  the  cookin'  dishes ;  th'  cook  washed,  and  th'  cham- 
bermaid always  wiped  'em.  When  th'  folks  was 
through  with  th'  soup  or  the  meat,  the  waitress 
always  brought  all  her  things  right  out  here;  th' 
food  was  heated  up  again  and  th'  dishes  washed  and 
set  in  th'  pantry  clean.  That's  the  way  they  did 
every  course  till  th'  dessert  went  in.  Then  they  set 
their  own  table,  and  when  th'  waitress  was  through 
they  all  ate  dinner  there.  Never  any  two  of  'em 
set  down  'fore  they  was  all  three  ready.  An'  they 
had  things  on  that  table  nice,  jus'  like  th'  folks  do 
in  the  dinin'-room.  Th'  hot  things  was  hot  for  'em, 
th'  table  was  set  nice  and  tidy  like,  and  th'  cook 
always  carved  th'  meat  and  filled  th'  plates  for  'em 
all.  When  they  got  ready  for  dessert,  th'  meat  an' 
things  an'  all  the  dishes  was  taken  off  out  here  in  the 
kitchen  and  they  had  dessert — nice,  jus'  like  any- 
body." 

fj; Which  is  to  say,  they  dined:  they  did  not 
mess. 

"The  madam  liked  'em  to  have  it  that  way," 
added  Timothy.  "An'  lunch  was  jus'  th'  same. 
They  done  that  way  every  time  they  eat,  'cept  at 
breakfast,  o'  course ;  they  had  their  work  to  think 
of  then.  " 

"  Who  fixed  all  that  ?"  asked  little  Tilly. 

"The  cook.  All  't  goes  on  out  here  belongs  to 
her  generally,  but  th'  chambermaid  was  down  meal 
times,  and  she  helped." 

"Too  much  bother,"  commented  Tilly;  "and  I 
couldn't  go  to  all  that  fuss." 

It  would  have  been  a  bother  without  more  system 
than  Tilly  had.  Besides  which,  Tilly  was  her  own 


298  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

witness  that  she  didn't  know  how  to  set  and  serve 
an  orderly  table. 

"Of  course  we  could  do  more  work  that  way," 
the  cook  resumed.  "But  there's  all  I  want  to  do 
here  without  that." 

"Huh!"  said  Timothy,  who  was  a  man  of  wide 
experience  in  domestic  matters.  "Th'  work  here 
ain't  much  to  talk  about.  There's  a  big  family,  of 
course,  an*  they  want  things  nice,  but  they  don't 
expect  anything  like  what  some  folks  do  with  jus' 
a  little  family.  Everything  here's  arranged  a  pur- 
pose so's  to  be  easy  for  us.  I  mean,  madam  and 
boss  think  of  that  always  when  they  plan.  There's 
no  end  o'  people  that  don't  care  how  the  help  has  it 
so's  they  get  what  they  want.  If  you'd  ever  been 
in  a  place  like  that,  you'd  see  the  difference." 

"But  that  cook,  Amelia,  that  you're  forever 
telling  about  how  smart  she  was,  when  did  she  do 
her  cinnamon  buns  if  she  didn't  work  afternoons? 
She  must  have  had  to  hurry  awful  with  them." 

"She  never  made  any  account  o'  them — did  all 
that  sort  o'  thing  in  the  mornin'  when  she  was  waitin' 
to  cook  breakfast  for  the  folks .  '  Melia  never  hurried 
about  anything;  always  worked  right  along  easy, 
jus'  like  Mrs.  Nicholl.  You  wouldn't  think  she  was 
doin'  anything  to  look  at  her.  But  she  had  jus'  one 
way  to  do  everything,  an'  always  done  it  jus'  that 
way.  There's  where  she  saved.  The  waitress  did 
that  way,  too.  They  two  always  got  downstairs  here 
together  in  the  morning  'bout  six  o'clock  or  before, 
an'  th'  first  thing  th'  waitress  did  while  th'  cook  was 
fixin*  her  fire  was  to  take  that  big  waiter  there  in 
the  pantry  an'  go  down  cellar;  an*  she'd  stay  till 
she'd  done  everything  down  there  there  was  to  be 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  299 

done,  cleanin'  ice-chests  and  everything.  An*  when 
she  come  up  she'd  have  on  that  waiter  ice  for  the 
cooler  and  everything  they  was  goin'  to  want  up 
here  till  after  breakfast — fruit,  milk,  ice  for  the  table, 
butter,  things  for  in  there"  [mess-room]  "and  eggs, 
an*  whatever  else  th'  cook  wanted  to  use.  An' 
while  the  waitress  was  fixin'  her  table  an*  workin' 
in  th'  front  of  the  house,  th'  cook  would  be  gettin' 
breakfast  for  th'  three  of  'em ;  an'  in  between  time, 
while  she  was  a-waitin'  for  the  fire  an'  other  things, 
she'd  do  all  her  cleanin' — washin'  down  the  cellar 
stairs,  and  the  kitchen,  an*  th'  back  porch  an*  the 
res'.  All  those  things  you  do  once  a  week  she  done 
every  day.  George !  th'  whole  back  part  'round 
here  looked  always  like  it  jus'  been  cleaned.  Then 
after  the  three  girls  had  their  breakfast,  the  cham- 
bermaid and  waitress  helped  to  clear  up  so  every- 
thing'd  be  out  th'  way  an'  breakfast  ready  in  time 
for  th'  folks.  When  the  waitress  began  to  clear  up 
th'  dinin'-room  she'd  bring  out  her  things  for  down 
cellar,  an'  th'  cook  'd  take  'em  down  an'  put'  em 
away  when  she  went  after  what  she's  goin'  to  want 
to  cook  with  in  the  forenoon.  An'  that's  jus'  th' 
way  they  went  all  day.  When  one  worked  they 
all  worked,  and  they  were  all  through  together. 
That  waitress  never  worked  all  day  an'  all  th' 
evening,  too." 

Tilly  had  thought  very  modestly  that  she  could 
"get  through  as  much  work  as  the  next  one,"  and 
that,  as  she  was  "goin'  all  day  long,"  the  work  at 
the  Hollises'  must  be  excessive.  But  Timothy  said 
"Huh! "and  she  took  his  words  to  heart.  She 
began  presently  to  talk  about  "workin'  together," 
and  in  a  feeble  way  (very  feeble)  to  pattern  after 


3oo  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

those  other  women  like  whom  she  "could  not  begin 
to  work. ' '  The  shadows  of  helpfulness  and  humility 
hung  over  her  spirit — the  shadows,  not  the  substance. 
She  became  also  several  degrees  more  agreeable  to 
myself,  and  I  noted  with  glee  her  anxiety  to  list  all 
the  items  of  the  menu.  She  accomplished  it  only 
once,  to  be  sure,  but  a  readiness  to  answer  questions 
more  than  atoned.  The  madam's  memory  improved, 
too,  especially  when  there  was  to  be  company.  So 
the  end  of  that  struggle  was  satisfactory  to  me  in  my 
last  days  there.  I  can  only  hope  that  an  unknown 
successor  reaped  the  unconscious  benefit  of  hei* 
inheritance. 

Kitchen  tempests,  interesting  as  they  were,  were 
not  all-absorbing.  Always  during  Miss  Jean's 
housekeeping  there  were  other  things  to  think  about 
and  more  important.  After  a  week  in  bed  Miss 
Caroline  had  grown  very  ill. 

11  Her  throat  has  almost  rilled  up, "  Miss  Jean  told 
Tilly  when  she  made  out  the  orders  on  Monday. 
Miss  Jean  planned  alone  now,  for  Miss  Caroline  was 
too  weak  to  work  out  domestic  problems,  and  her 
sisters  were  anxiously  considering  a  telegram  to  the 
mother. 

"  I  don't  think  Doctor  B is  helping  her  at  all, " 

complained  the  sister.  "If  I  knew  somebody  else 
who  would  surely  do  better " 

"Doctor  X ,  on  the  corner  of  Y  and  Z 

streets,  is  fine!"  advised  Tilly.  "I  had  him  for 
my  Hugh,  and  Hugh's  throat  was  filled  up  just 
like  Miss  Caroline's."  Tilly  could  not  sympathize 
without  matching  the  case  with  one  from  her 
own  experience. 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  301 

"When  my  boy  Hugh  had  diphtheria  I  swabbed 
out  his  throat  with "(that  I  should  have  for- 
gotten with  what !)  "  every  hour.  The  doctor  said 
spray  it,  but  sprayin'  didn't  do  no  good.  Hugh 
didn't  get  no  better.  He  knew  that  spray 
wa'n't  doin'  him  no  good,  too.  'Mamma/  he 
says,  'that  old  spray  don't  touch  my  throat. 
Why  don't  you  put  something  on  a  stick  and 
run  it  down  like  gran'ma  used  to?  Gran'ma 
used  to  wind  something  on  a  stick,  and  that 
did  the  business.'  So  I  made  a  swab  just  the 
way  he  told  me  his  gran'ma  did,  and  it  did  work 
fine;  it  took  every  bit  of  that  stuff  out  of  his 
throat." 

Miss  Jean  anxiously  drummed  on  the  table  with 

her  pencil.  "Doctor  B ordered  the  spray  and 

that's  what  we've  been  using.  I  wish  he'd  tell  us 
something  to  do  for  the  outside ;  Miss  Caroline  com- 
plains so  of  her  throat's  aching  and  being  sore  on 
the  outside." 

"I  should  think  a  flaxseed  poultice  would  be 
good  for  that,"  said  Tilly. 

"Perhaps  it  would,"  mused  Miss  Jean.  "I'm 
sure  I  don't  know.  The  doctor  will  be  here  this 
morning — that  is,  I  expect  him;  but  he's  so  slow  I 
can't  be  sure  he'll  get  around.  I'll  ask  him  about 
that — flaxseed,  was  it?" 

The  poultice  was  made  and  applied,  Tilly  finding 
in  the  occasion  an  opportunity  which  I  envied  her. 
I  knew  less  about  making  poultices  than  Miss  Jean 
or  Miss  Elizabeth.  But  Tilly's  experience  covered 
poultice-making  as  well  as  swabbing.  What  she 
knew  of  both  she  offered  for  Miss  Caroline's  service 
and  Miss  Elizabeth  accepted  gratefully. 


302  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Tilly  is  quite  a  doctor,"  said  the  younger 
sister,  coming  down  after  the  first  treatment. 
It's  a  mercy,  for  the  rest  of  us  are  helpless  so  far 
as  knowing  what  to  do  is  concerned,  and  yet  I 
want  to  keep  doing  something  till  the  nurse 
comes. " 

The  best  way  for  an  ignorant  waitress  to  help,  I 
decided,  was  to  keep  on  quietly  with  my  regular 
work  and  be  otherwise  as  unobtrusive  as  possible. 
Nor  was  I  unable  to  spare  the  more  fortunate  Tilly 
with  a  cheerful  heart.  As  in  the  case  of  her  boy 
Hugh,  she  applied  the  swabbing  treatment  every 
hour;  encouraging  her  patient  from  the  kitchen 
meanwhile,  and  incidentally  the  rest  of  us,  with  the 
single  melodious  strain  of 

Legato.  Adagio. 


Oh,  how  I  have  suf-fered  in         a  pris-on  cell. 


If  Miss  Caroline  didn't  hear,  it  was  by  a  miracle 
transcending  all  the  known  laws  of  sound. 

"  I  went  upstairs  into  Miss  Caroline's  room  with 
Miss  Elizabeth,"  was  the  report  that  came  down- 
stairs to  us,  "and  Miss  Elizabeth  said,  'Caroline, 
will  you  let  Tilly  fix  your  throat?'  Til  let  her  do 
anything  she  wants  to,'  poor  Miss  Caroline  said. 
She  can't  do  anything  but  whisper.  Then  I  leaned 
over  the  bed,  'This  will  make  you  feel  a  lot  better, 
Miss  Caroline,'  I  told  her;  'and  besides,  I  love  to  do 
it;  I  love  to  wait  on  the  sick.'  It's  put  me  back  a 
lot  with  my  cinnamon  buns,  though,  the  fussin' 
with  that  stuff  and  goin'  up  every  hour,  but  I  don't 
care — it's  for  Miss  Caroline.  Miss  Jean  says  no 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  303 

matter  if  I  don't  get  dinner  ready  right  on  the 
minute;  if  I  can  help  Miss  Caroline  the  rest  of  'em 
can  wait.  Let  the  rest  of  'em  'go  'way  back  and  sit 
down/  I  say,"  which  last  phrase  was  many  times 
repeated  in  the  vigorously  tuneful  fashion  of  the 
hour. 

Who  could  blame  Doctor  Tilly  for  being  happy 
that  she  had  helped  ?  Not  I,  certainly.  I  was  glad 
that  her  treatment  was  proving  so  successful,  yet  as 
ready  as  any  one  below  stairs  to  welcome  the  nurse 
when  she  came.  Tilly  herself  almost  sulked  in  her 
disappointment  that  there  was  to  be  no  more 
swabbing. 

"  If  they'd  only  let  me  keep  on  with  that  for  twelve 
hours  steady,  Miss  Caroline  would  have  been  all 
right  and  their  trained  nurse  could  have  gone 
kitin'." 

"Oh,  Tilly,  you  couldn't  a-kept  that  up  with 
your  work  down  here,"  objected  the  practical 
Anna.  'It's  better  to  have  somebody  to  do 
everything  for  her  and  you  do  your  work. 
People  have  got  to  eat.  That  nurse  is  sure  to 
make  a  heap  o'  work,"  she  added  under  her 
breath.  "They  always  do,  but  it's  better  to 
have  her." 

The  nurse  came  that  night  at  six  o'clock.  Monday 
night  it  was,  for  I  was  ironing  the  last  table  napkin 
when  the  bell  rang — a  performance  I  did  not  repeat 
while  she  stayed. 

"What  is  she  like ?  Is  she  good  looking ?  Is  she 
young?"  everybody  asked. 

"Oh,  ordinary,  with  red  cheeks  and  gray  hair,"  I 
answered.  I  had  hardly  noticed  her  personality. 

But  presently  Miss  Parkly  came  down,  all  ready 


3o4  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

in  her  uniform, .  and  the  curious  could  judge  for 
themselves. 

"She's  always  given  herself  the  best  of  care," 
commented  Anna;  "she's  kept  well." 

"All  in  white  !  Good  for  the  washing,"  observed 
Lilla. 

"I  don't  believe  she  can  get  up  anything  better'n 
that  swabbing  out  o'  the  throat  I  done  for  Miss 
Caroline,"  said  Tilly. 

For  my  own  part,  I  would  have  advised  a  sani- 
tarium at  once.  Miss  Parkly's  was  not  the  quiet, 
restful  presence  that  goes  with  all  the  story-book 
nurses.  She  took  little,  short,  rapid  steps,  and 
talked  in  a  choppy,  breathy  way;  too  many  heart- 
beats to  the  minute,  possibly.  She  seemed  to  know 
what  to  do  for  a  quinsy  patient,  however,  which 
was  most  desirable,  certainly. 

"How  often  do  you  feed  her?"  inquired  Tilly, 
who  would  have  held  professional  converse. 

"Miss  Caroline  takes  nourishment  every  three 
hours,"  was  the  pompous  reply. 

Tilly  gasped.  The  fatality  of  an  interval  varying 
by  ten  minutes  was  suddenly  appalling. 

"How's  Miss  Caroline's  throat  this  morning?" 
asked  Tilly,  who  had  recovered  overnight. 

A  fully  detailed  and  technical  description,  over 
which  she  looked  wise  and  of  which  she  understood 
nothing,  was  the  cook's  reward. 

"I  don't  drink  coffee,"  said  she  of  the  white 
gown  to  Miss  Jean,  "nor  tea.  I  drink  a  cereal 
coffee." 

Miss  Jean  ordered  a  package. 

"If  you  like  the  stuff,  I'm  going  to  make  it  for 
you,"  declared  Tilly  to  me. 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  305 

I  demurred,  though  I  do  really  like  "the  stuff." 

"There's  more  here  than  the  white  woman  '11 
stay  to  drink  and  it's  just  as  easy  to  make  double," 
insisted  Tilly.  "I  never  tasted  the  stuff  myself, 
Anna  don't  drink  it,  or  Timothy;  but  old  cheek- 
bones shan't  have  it  all,  if  she  did  make  Miss  Jean 
order  it  for  her.  I'll  see  that  somebody  in  the  house 
gets  a  little  of  it." 

It  was  a  humorous  little  body  !  I  had  not  thought 
her  suggestion  could  be  for  love  of  me. 

"I  get  tired  with  so  much  running  about  up  and 
down  stairs,"  complained  the  nurse.  "I'm  not  used 
to  it." 

"Why,  how  do  you  have  it  at  other  places?" 
inquired  the  innocent  one. 

"People  usually  have  a  little  ice-chest  upstairs. 
I  always  have  an  ice-chest  of  my  own  upstairs," 
explained  Miss  Parkly. 

Whether  this  hint  ever  reached  Miss  Jean  I  don't 
know.  All  the  invalid  supplies  continued  in  the 
family  chests  in  the  cellar.  It  seemed  to  us  practical 
folk  below  stairs  that  a  covered  box  on  the  second- 
story  back  porch  would  have  answered  all  daily 
purposes  more  conveniently.  But  Miss  Parkly 
held  that  labour  shared  is  sorrow  divided.  Save 
once,  when  she  rang  Tilly  upstairs  because  she 
wasn't  feeling  very  well,  she  managed  to  come  as 
far  as  the  kitchen,  where  she  could  make  easy  con- 
nections with  Tilly  or  me  for  the  rest. 

Tilly,  being  weak  in  patience  and  rather  too  sensi- 
tive, gave  out  under  the  strain. 

"I  ain't  a-goin'  to  wait  on  her !  Is  it  any  harder 
for  her  to  go  downstairs  after  a  bottle  of  milk  than 
for  me?  I  don't  feel  very  well,  either  !" 


3o6  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Pshaw,  Tilly,"  said  I  virtuously.  "Be  a  little 
courteous  to  the  stranger  until  she  gets  used  to  the 
place.  Somebody  was  good  enough  to  make  it  easy 
for  you  when  you  came." 

"Well,  I  don't  mind  waiting  on  Miss  Caroline — 
she's  sick,  or  on  any  of  the  family,  but  I  ain't  paid 
to  chase  around  after  her." 

"Courtesy  always  pays,  Tilly." 

"You  think  so,  do  you?" 

"Of  course;  I  know  it." 

"You  can  wait  on  her,  then,  if  you  want  to." 

I  did  wait  on  her.  I  toted  her  milk,  ice  and  fruit 
from  the  cellar  numberless  times  a  day,  sometimes 
taking  my  hands  out  of  the  dishwater  to  do  it.  I 
got  napkins  for  her  tray,  and  dishes,  and  other 
things,  though  I  drew  the  line  at  mounting  to  the 
top  of  the  closet  after  china  not  in  common  use. 

"See,  Eliza,  don't  you  think  that  little  pitcher 
would  look  cute  on  the  tray  ?  I  wish  I  could  have 
it.  One  of  those  up  there,  Eliza ;  don't  you  think  it 
would  be  pretty?" 

"Yes,"  I  said,  as  I  got  her  another  from  far  below. 
But  it  was  a  fib ;  the  ware  did  not  appeal  to  me. 

Tilly  saw  my  noble  example  and,  after  an  offish 
streak,  resumed  the  agreeable  with  so  much  zeal 
that  she  left  the  chops  to  cook  themselves  one  day, 
while  she  went  to  the  cellar.  The  meat  burned, 
of  course. 

"There  !  You  think  that  pays,  do  you  !"  said  the 
rueful  cook.  "Well,  that's  what  comes  of  doin' 
your  way  and  bein'  polite." 

"But  I  didn't  mean,  Tilly,  that  you  ought  to  risk 
spoiling  your  dinner  to  wait  on  white  robes ;  because 
that's  a  neglect  of  business,  and  isn't  fair  to  those 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  307 

who  pay  you,  or  to  yourself  either.  Your  own 
business  first,  always.  The  nurse  oughtn't  to  ask 
you  to  leave  when  you  can't,"  I  added,  ' 'unless 
the  case  is  critical — then  it  would  be  different, 
of  course." 

"  What  will  I  do,  then?"  As  a  seeker,  Tilly  was 
at  her  best. 

"Why,  if  I  were  too  busy  to  leave  my  work,  I'd 
say  so.  I'd  show  her  where  things  are,  so  she'd 
wait  on  herself.  That  can  be  done  courteously." 

It  may  not  be  the  custom  for  a  nurse  to 
help  herself,  when  she  requires  from  the 
supplies  at  hand  for  common  use,  such  as 
a  knife  from  the  drawer  or  a  spoon  from  its 
holder.  When  special  provision  has  been  made 
for  her  needs,  or  the  maids  have  the  leisure  or 
the  willingness,  it  is  of  course  a  different  matter. 
But  one  who  comes  day  after  day  with  frantic 
demands  for  such  things,  always  at  the  precise 
moment  when  everybody  is  busiest,  needs, 
according  to  my  mind,  a  post-graduate  course  in 
common  sense  and  self-help.  Without  such,  how 
can  she  be  competent  for  her  work  ? 

I  made  personal  application  of  this  thought, 
despite  the  delicate  flattery  in  Miss  Parkly's  depen- 
dent flutterings.  Granting  that  the  china  became 
in  some  way  hallowed  by  my  touch — if  it  did  not, 
why  should  she  have  walked  'way  into  the  dining- 
table  for  a  cup  and  saucer,  when  there  was  a 
round  half-dozen  full  in  sight  on  the  lower  shelf 
of  the  pantry  closet?  Granting  this  digital 
blessing,  I  felt  that  she  should  not  make  up  her 
tray  wholly  from  the  things  I  had  counted  out 
for  table  use  without  seasonable  confession. 


3o8  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

This  was  really  a  small  matter,  however,  the  habit 
of  a  second  count  being  easily  acquired.  I  came  to 
deprecate  more  seriously  her  presence  in  my  path 
immediately  before  or  after  the  commencement  of 
dinner.  As  I  passed  back  and  forth  with  the  last 
few  things,  she  would  flutter  in  my  wake  impor- 
tuning : 

"  Eliza,  did  you  carry  in  a  plate  for  me  ? " 

"I  haven't  carried  any  in;  they're  all  on  the 
range."  Had  it  been  otherwise  I  wouldn't  have 
thought  to  take  in  a  plate  for  one  who  ate 
afterward  by  herself. 

The  white  woman  left  me  to  demand  of  the 
cook  that  her  plate  be  served  first.  "I  like 
the  second  cut  of  the  roast,  Tilly.  Just  cut  a 
piece  off  out  here  for  me  so  it  can  be  kept  hot 
till  I'm  ready." 

Tilly,  who  was  also  in  a  hurry,  was  nearly  beside 
herself.  "  Why,  I  can't  do  that ;  I  haven't  any  right ! 
I  have  to  send  the  meat  in  just  as  it  comes  from  the 
oven,"  she  declared. 

Then  the  white  woman  came  back  to  me.  ' '  When 
you  take  in  the  plates,  Eliza,  take  one  in  for  me  and 
ask  them  to  put  the  meat  on ;  then  you  put  on  the 
vegetables  to  foe  kept  warm.  And  do  this  right 
along,  will  you?" 

I  looked  at  her. 

"Yes,  that's  all  right.  They  always  do  that 
everywhere;  they  always  serve  the  nurse  first — 
everybody  thinks  of  the  nurse  first,"  she  assured 
me. 

I  would  that  I  had  said,  as  the  more  experienced 
Anna  would  have  said,  and  as  the  little  cook  did 
say,  "I  cannot  do  that  without  orders."  Instead, 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  309 

I  took  in  a  plate  and  preferred  her  request,  expur- 
gated and  abbreviated. 

''How  about  this?"  queried  Mr.  Ralph,  raising 
his  eyes  to  Miss  Jean.  "  Isn't  this  somewhat 
unusual?" 

"I  suppose  we'd  better  do  it,"  sighed  Miss  Jean. 
"  Mother  isn't  at  home  to  deal  with  her,  and  we 
can't  risk  a  fuss." 

Mr.  Ralph  therefore  served  her  portion.  Not  so 
Mr.  Hollis.  He  silently  referred  the  question  to  the 
madam. 

"Oh,  Eliza,"  said  that  lady,  half  humorously, 
"I  think  the  roast  will  keep  waqp  enough  until 
we're  through  with* it,  so  it  will  not  be  necessary 
for  you  to  bother  that  way." 

I  bore  forth  the  empty  plate,  which  was  ever 
afterward  served  for  her  white-gownship  after  the 
meat  course  was  carried  out.  Usually,  I  think,  by 
Anna,  for  Tilly  wouldn't  and  I  couldn't. 

"Why  can't  she  wait  and  share  with  us?"  quoth 
Tilly.  "  Is  she  so  much  better  than  we  are  because 
she  earns  more  money?" 

"  No,  but  for  the  sake  of  peace,"  I  implored. 

But  for  me  there  was  no  peace.  "  I  am  very  fond 
of  chicken,  Eliza,  but  I  don't  care  for  it  unless  it's 
hot,  and  then  I  eat  always  a  little  of  the  breast. 
Just  a  little  of  the  breast,  Eliza — tell  Mr.  Hollis  just 
a  little  of  the  breast,  please."  But  so  far  as  I  know, 
Mr.  Hollis  is  still  unaware  of  her  preference. 

"Make  a  place  for  the  nurse,  Eliza,"  Mrs.  Hollis 
directed  with  beautiful  resignation,  when  Miss 
Caroline  began  to  sit  up. 

The  family  loss  promised  to  be  my  gain.  I  said 
"Yes'm"  thankfully.  But  I  was  premature.  Miss 


3io  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Caroline's  tray  must  now  be  arranged  a  little  before 
dinner  was  ready,  so  the  nurse  could  be  on  hand  at 
table  with  the  first.  As  Miss  Caroline  partook 
regularly  of  the  family  menu,  this  plan  may  seem 
to  have  been  somewhat  difficult  to  work  out,  as 
indeed  it  was.  Finally,  however,  Miss  Caroline 
discarded  trays  and  came  to  table  herself.  Yet  my 
joy  at  having  her  downstairs  was  not  wholly  selfish. 

"  If  that  nurse  could  wait  five  minutes,"  I  growled 
to  Anna,  "it  would  be  something  like.  But  no; 
she  comes  in  a  flutter:  'Oh,  Eliza,  get  me  this,  I 
want  that,  I've  got  to  have  the  other,  I'm  in  such 
a  hurry  with  Miss  Caroline's  dinner ! '  I  don't 
believe  Miss  Caroline  is  so  dying  anxious  myself." 

"Miss  Caroline's  all  right,"  agreed  Anna.  "But 
that  nurse — aw !  she  can't  wait,  for  she  must  get 
down  to  the  table  to  eat  with  the  family — so  crazy 
to  get  the  smell  o'  the  big  folks  on  her !" 

And  so  crazy,  after  she  did  get  down,  to  assume 
the  big  folks'  burden,  the  conversational  burden ! 

All  nurses  are  not  like  Miss  Parkly ,  as  I  happen  to 
know  from  earlier  experience.  Lacking  this  knowl- 
edge, a  personal  devotion  to  the  family  and  a  little 
— a  very  little — keenness  from  off  my  moral  sense, 
I  would  certainly  fold  my  domestic  tents  and  fly  the 
house  of  my  next  and  all  subsequent  employers  at  the 
first  suspicion  of  a  coming  nurse.  Only  a  special 
inducement  could  make  it  worth  while  to  stand 
that  infliction  with  three  such  lacks,  and  a  new 
place  so  easily  found. 


Of    the     legitimate    burden    of    Miss    Parkly 's 
presence   I  do  not  complain,  though  it  did  take 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  311 

on   weight    by    geometrical   progression.     It    was, 
under  the  circumstances,    unavoidable. 

Much  of  the  fault,  I  suspect,  lay  in  the  daily 
beginning.  The  family  breakfast,  which  was  sched- 
uled for  quarter  past  eight,  really  was  served  any- 
where between  that  time  and  half -past  nine  o'clock. 
Then  Miss  Parkly  breakfasted ;  then  I  breakfasted ; 
and  then,  despite  a  week's  practice,  it  was  eleven 
o'clock  before  the  regular  after-breakfast  routine 
in  the  dining-room  and  pantry  was  done.  While 
I  was  fresh  to  the  fray  I  rose  early  enough  to  get 
through  the  daily  routine  in  the  front  of  the  house 
before  breakfast.  But  I  became  after  awhile,  even 
with  an  early  cup  of  tea,  so  faint  and  shaky  by  half- 
past  nine  that  the  half-past-nine  breakfast  could 
not  fully  restore.  Those  half -past-nine  breakfasts, 
by  the  way,  are  not  among  the  most  appetizing  in 
memory.  They  may  have  been  irreproachable  at 
quarter  past  eight,  though  I  rather  doubt  it,  Tilly 
having  still  something  to  learn  in  matters  of  season- 
ing. But  at  half -past  nine — what  but  low  tempera- 
ture can  bring  out  such  deficiency  in  rare  perfection  ? 
Or  again,  what  mastery  of  seasoning  will  give  enjoy- 
ment to  cold  bacon  or  to  a  cold  egg  ?  Especially  is 
it  peculiar  of  breakfast  dishes  that  they  lose  attrac- 
tiveness with  age ;  and  Tilly  always  cooked  all  of 
everything  for  the  first  set  of  people,  and  those 
that  came  later  took  what  was  left.  Sometimes, 
as  with  the  steak,  one  must  do  that  way,  though 
generally  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  Frieda  in 
Tilly's  place  would  have  found  it  feasible  to  save 
a  part  to  be  cooked  fresh  for  the  workers'  table. 
Under  Frieda's  management  I  would  not  have  had 
to  shut  my  eyes  and  think  of  June  rosebuds  while 


3i2  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

supplementing  oatmeal  and  bread  and  butter  with 
chilly  eggs  scrambled  one  and  one-half  hours  before 
et  alia  similia.  In  short,  Tilly  did  not  know  how. 

I  came  to  a  feeling  realization  of  why  it  was  that 
Anna  was  eating  less  and  less,  complaining  of  indi- 
gestion, and  taking  more  and  more  to  bread  and 
tea.  That  she  began  in  time  to  lag  and  grumble 
that  her  work  was  never  done,  to  say  that  the  place 
was  worse  than  her  last,  which  she  left  because  of 
the  hard  work — all  followed  naturally.  I  defy 
any  one  to  labour  in  continued  cheerfulness  on  just 
bread  and  tea.  It  is  also  my  belief,  however,  that 
if  Anna  and  Tilly  had  closed  their  every-evening 
mutual-interest  meetings  promptly  at  ten  o'clock, 
instead  of  holding  them  until  half -past  ten,  eleven, 
half -past  eleven,  and  later,  it  would  have  done  much 
to  alleviate  the  conditions  of  the  next  day.  In  time 
Anna  came  to  realize  this  for  herself,  exclaiming 
over  the  folly  of  "sitting  up  so  late  to  do  nothing 
but  talk,"  and  again  and  again  resolving  to  go  to 
bed  early.  These  resolves  seemed  difficult  of  execu- 
tion, somehow. 

For  my  part,  I  was  glad  enough  when  ten  o'clock 
came  so  I  could  go  to  bed,  though  as  the  evenings 
passed  they  found  me  working  nearer  and  nearer 
that  time.  At  first  I  waited  until  Miss  Parkly  began 
on  her  dessert  before  I  went  to  my  own  dinner.  At 
the  same  time,  also,  I  suffered  from  gradually  cooling 
dishwater.  The  water  in  the  boiler  had  reached 
a  delicious  tepid  the  night  there  was  roast  lamb. 
The  soap  wouldn't  dissolve,  softening  ammonia 
wouldn't  go  any  farther  than  the  salad  plates,  the 
rinsing  water  wouldn't  rinse,  and  I  couldn't  get  the 
dishes  clean.  I  put  four  sets  of  plates  into  the  sink 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  313 

and  washed  them  all  the  second  time,  and  then 
some  of  them  were  smeary. 

"What  are  you  so  long  at  the  dishes  for?"  called 
out  the  friends  who  had  been  crocheting  silk  neck- 
ties in  the  mess-room  for  two  blissful  hours. 

"Because  I  so  love  to  do  'em  I  can't  leave,  and  the 
water  is  beautifully  cool,"  I  replied. 

They  laughed.  "I  got  hot  water  from  the  tea- 
kettle," said  Tilly. 

"And  then  banked  the  fire  so  nobody  else  could 
get  any,"  I  refrained  from  adding. 

All  the  next  day  it  was  just  as  bad.  Ashes  and 
clinkers  do  not  spirit  themselves  out  of  a  firebox. 
I  took  occasion  to  remark  finally,  in  a  casual  way, 
that  the  water  had  been  cool  a  whole  week,  and  that 
I  had  been  tormented  with  it  for  the  last  time.  "If 
I  can't  get  hot  water  the  next  time  I  have  dishes  to 
wash  I'm  goin'  to  pile  'em  in  the  sink  and  leave  'em. 
I  haven't  an  hour  to  spend  on  a  thirty-minute  lot 
of  dishes." 

"Won't  the  people  from  upstairs  come  down 
and  see  'em?"  asked  Tilly. 

"Most  likely,"  said  I. 

"Won't  they  speak  to  you  about  'em  ?" 

"Oh,  probably." 

"Then  what'll  you  say?" 

"That  I'm  ready  to  wash  them  as  soon  as  there's 
decent  water." 

Within  sixty  minutes  Tilly  had  dumped  her  fire 
and  made  new,  and  the  water  sizzled  from  that 
time  on. 

I  gave  up  serving  Miss  Parkly's  dinner  in 
courses — this  upon  advice  from  Anna — setting  it 
before  her  all  at  once  and  going  to  my  own 

€ 


3i4  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

straightway,  instead.  But  for  all  that,  though 
Timothy  invited  especially,  the  other  three  played 
their  games  in  the  early  evening  without  me. 
There  came  to  be  games  in  the  mess-room  now 
and  then  of  an  evening — dominoes,  checkers,  and 
cards  we  had  in  answer,  I  think,  to  a  suggestion 
of  my  own,  offered  in  reply  to  one  of  Anna's 
grumbles. 

"There's  no  chance  for  any  fun  in  this  house. 
It's  work  all  day  and  then  sit  down  here  and  do 
nothing  all  night.  We  used  to  have  great  fun  up  at 
the  Beverlys' — I  wish  I  was  back  there." 

"I  don't  see  much  chance  for  anything  exciting 
myself,  but  I  should  think  you  and  Tilly  might  have 
good  times  together  playing  games.  Or  you  could 
read;  it  was  only  the  other  day  you  were  wishing 
you  had  time  for  that,  and  you  have  three  or  four 
free  hours  every  evening." 

"  Yes,  I  do  have  the  evenings,  but  what  does  that 
amount  to?" 

"  It  amounts  to  three  or  four  hours  a  day,  six  days 
a  week.  That's  quite  a  lot  of  time,  Anna.  It's  two 
whole  twelve-hour  days  out  of  every  seven. " 

"  Yes,  it  is,  that's  so, "  she  said.  "  I  didn't  think 
to  count  it  together  that  way. " 

Timothy,  who  was  sleeping  in  the  stable  while 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hollis  were  away,  said  he'd  play  the 
next  night  if  there  was  anything  to  play  with,  and 
Anna's  trunk  promptly  yielded  a  set  of  dominoes. 
None  of  us  put  up  a  very  scientific  game,  but  we  were 
all  interested  and  amused  to  the  extent  of  a  con- 
tented evening  and  increased  good  nature  the  next 
day.  The  second  time  we  played  it  was  casino,  with 
Timothy's  cards  and  the  coachman  from  next  door, 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  315 

who  came  in  with  his  company  manners  to  spend  the 
evening,  perhaps  on  Timothy's  invitation.  Anna 
had  lived  on  Spruce  Street,  and  Henry  had  coached 
for  Walnut  and  Locust  Street  families ;  so  there  was 
a  common  ground  for  a  pleasant  gossip  about  what 
is  commonly  known  as  the  aristocracy.  Presently 
Timothy  contributed  a  set  of  checkers  with 
which  Anna  and  I  played  sometimes  on  Tilly's 
off  nights.  In  the  institution  of  the  games 
there  was  seemingly  the  feeble  beginning  of  a 
general  society  below  stairs. 

After  awhile  the  mutual-interest  meetings  began 
to  occur  less  often  and  to  close  earlier,  and  then  Anna 
brought  a  book  (one  of  her  own)  to  the  mess-room. 
She  didn't  read  very  far  in  it  while  I  knew  her,  but  I 
have  faith  to  believe  that  she  took  it  up  again  and 
read  to  the  finish  when  the  mutual-interest  meetings 
ceased  altogether — as  they  were  sometime  bound 
to  do  from  the  very  nature  of  things — and  ' '  Lorna 
Doone"  could  not  lose  by  the  wait. 

Timothy,  as  has  already  been  suggested,  was  the 
one  among  us  most  gifted  in  conversation;  and  in 
light  comedy,  also,  he  was  thought  to  be  not  without 
talent.  The  first  few  times  he  pulled  down  his  vest 
for  us,  Anna  went  off,  as  if  she  had  been  a  repeating 
torpedo,  into  one  explosion  after  another  until  I 
feared  hysterics.  There  was  a  monkey-like  ludi- 
crousness  in  the  action,  nothing  being  lost  in  the 
fact  that  the  vest  happened  to  be  a  cardigan 
jacket  and  "come  down  so  long  with  them  little 
short  crooked  legs  a-stickin'  out  underneath." 

But  I  enjoyed  his  serious  discourse  rather  more,  I 
think,  for  I  learned  thereby  such  a  surprising  number 
of  things :  that  a  horse's  legs  are  no  longer  when  he 


3i6  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

dies  than  when  he  comes  into  the  world  a  colt,  all 
upward  growth  being  from  the  shoulder;  that 
coachmen  have  various  signs  whereby  they  recog- 
nize one  another  upon  the  roads.  (I  see  no  good 
reason  why  they  should  not  bow  to  their  friends  like 
other  people.)  That  our  late  Civil  War  would 
have  been  going  on  yet  if  President  Lincoln 
had  not  put  coloured  regiments  into  the  field ;  that 
but  for  this  the  Union  party  never  would  have  been 
victorious,  and  that  slavery  would  still  be.  (I 
hadn't  known  this.)  That  it  was  a  fine  thing  to 
recognize  an  unknown  brother  of  one's  own 
secret  order  and  get  instant  help,  against 
any  number  of  non-members,  the  rights  of  the 
case  being  taken  on  faith.  That  in  all  the 
seventeen  years  Timothy's  father  had  coached 
for  the  "boss"  he  had  never  once  seen  Miss 
Caroline  show  the  least  irritation  or  petulance, 
though  he  had  often  seen  her  under  provo- 
cation. 

Timothy,  with  a  record  of  seven  months,  could 
not  say  the  same  of  Miss  Jean,  who  came  down 
one  night  shivering,  full  of  exasperation,  which 
exploded  at  sight  of  him. 

''Timothy!  I  have  talked  until  I'm  tired. 
Now,  for  the  last  time — this  house  is  cold !  I 
want  you  to  go  down  cellar  at  once  and  fix 
the  furnace  so  as  to  give  us  more  heat !  This 
house  has  got  to  be  warm!" 

Notwithstanding  the  emphasis,  four  grins  ap- 
peared upon  four  faces  the  minute  the  door  closed 
behind  her.  Timothy  in  his  magnanimity  over- 
looked the  pepper  in  Miss  Jean's  address,  and 
though  he  had  but  that  minute  come  from  the 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  317 

furnace,  he  went  immediately  back  to  make  doubly 
sure  that  all  was  right. 

"  It  don't  do  to  take  any  chances  when  you  get  it 
like  that, "  said  he. 

Tilly  was  most  solicitous  of  the  state  of  his 
"feelin's." 

"  Pooh,  I  don't  take  any  'count  o'  what  she  says, " 
said  Timothy.  "I  wouldn't  take  a  thing  like  that 
from  boss  or  madam.  I  wouldn't  have  to,  but  she" 
[Miss  Jean]  "don'  make  the  place. 

"Boss  is  nice  man  to  work  for,"  he  continued. 
"  When  he  sees  a  thing  ain't  like  he  wants  it  he  says, 
'I  don'  like  this  so,  like  you  had  it  las'  time ;  it  ought 
to  be  this  way.'  An'  that's  all.  I  tol'  him  'fore 
I  come  I  didn't  mind  him  tellin'  me  when  I  made 
mistakes,  if  he  tell  me  like  I  man  same's  he  is.  'Cause 
there's  nobody  that  don'  make  mistakes  'cept  them 
as  don'  do  nothin'."  Which  last  sounded  familiar, 
yet  I  could  not  for  the  moment  place  it.  "Boss 
gives  me  $8  a  week,  my  board  and  smokin'  tobacca, 
an'  all  my  clothes,  mos'. " 

Whatever  the  open  differences  upon  the  question 
of  interracial  marriage,  or  the  secret  estimate  of 
"my  boy,  Hugh,"  there  was  one  point  upon  which 
all  three  were  agreed,  that  it  would  be  a  happy 
time  when  the  madam  came  home.  An  opinion 
which  was  shared  by  Miss  Jean  and  Miss  Elizabeth, 
for  the  grasshopper  seemed  to  have  become  a 
burden  above  stairs  as  well  as  below.  Miss  Jean 
expressed  her  mind  on  this  matter  at  the  breakfast 
table  in  such  wise  as  the  discreet  Anna  would 
not  have  repeated. 

"Never  carry  anything  out  of  the  dining-room, 
Lizy,  or  tell  what  you  hear  the  family  say  just 


3i 8  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

among  themselves."  And  this  most  desirable  rule 
Anna  really  did  live  up  to. 

As  for  Anna  herself:  " To-morrow  the  madam 
comes  home  and  I'm  glad.  I'm  just  livin'  till  the 
day,  and  I  hope  we  can  have  peace  again.  We 
always  used  to  have  peace  here ;  I  don't  know  how 
it  is,  but  we  never  seem  to  have  it  any  more." 

I  divined  that  I  was  meant  to  go  shares  on 
that  with  the  woman  in  white;  and  though  I 
expounded  cheerfully,  "How  pleasant  it  is  for 
little  children  to  dwell  together  in  unity,"  I 
passed  my  lingual  misfortunes  in  silent  review, 
with  secret  sympathy  for  her  if  not  with 
penitence.  Certainly  I  saw  nothing  in  the  last, 
the  immediate  provocation,  to  be  sorry  for  save 
the  diction,  and  a  less  censurable  had  twice  failed 
of  effect.  Frieda  once  intimated  to  me  that  her 
speech  had  not  gained  in  delicacy  with  her  years  in 
domestic  employ.  I  think  I  understand  why. 

"I  want  to  say  right  now,  in  public,"  I  had  said 
at  morning  mess,  "that  I  will  everlastingly  make 
it  hot  for  the  fellow  who  picks  the  grapes  off  the 
big,  full  bunches  between  mornings — one  grape 
off  here,  another  off  there.  It  makes  them  so 
scraggly  I  have  to  trim  them  all  to  pieces  before 
they're  fit  to  put  on  the  table.  It's  not  the  right 
way  to  do,  anyhow,  being  wasteful  and  shiftless. 
If  folks  must  lunch  on  grapes,  there  are  always 
loose  ones  in  the  basket." 

"  You  can't  lay  that  on  to  me,"  said  Tilly,  bridling. 
"You  never  see  me  do  that." 

"  I  never  saw  anybody  do  it,  and  I  don't  want  to 
see  anybody  do  it.  I  don't  want  anybody  to  do  it 
either;  for  if  it  takes  as  long  to  fix  the  grapes 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  319 

for  table  another  morning  as  it  did  to-day  there'll 
be  a  very  large  row,  and  it  won't  be  pleasant 
for  somebody,  I  promise."  My  concluding  grin 
was  reflected  by  Anna. 

"  Break  off  a  small  cluster,  Tilly,  or  take  some 
that  are  already  loose,  if  you  want  grapes/'  said 
the  chambermaid.  "  That's  the  way  to  do.  It 
really  isn't  right  to  leave  them  that  way." 

It  was  eauy  to  see  what  Tilly  had  not  been  used 
to  from  the  greed  and  wastefulness  of  her.  Yet  I 
took  small  pleasure  in  being  a  stirrer-up  of  musses, 
even  when  it  seemed  the  only  means  to  my  end. 
Otherwise  what  n,  glorious  opportunity  had  been 
mine ! 

Young  Allan,  being  of  a  studious  turn,  and 
at  that  crude  state  where  youth  decides  that  all  the 
wisdom  of  the  world  is  in  books  and  knowledge  of 
books,  did  not  find  all  his  aspirations  fully  sympa- 
thized with.  One  member  of  the  family,  indeed, 
warned  him  against  being  a  prig — but  that  is 
irrelevant.  Parental  generosity,  presumably,  had 
presented  Allan  with  a  coveted  dictionary  in  four 
or  more  volumes.  A  small  child  could  not  have 
awaited  a  new  doll  more  impatiently  than  that  boy 
the  coming  of  his  books.  They  came  duly;  but 
nobody  knew  anything  about  them,  it  having  been 
decided  to  keep  the  gift  for  his  Christmas  stocking. 

It  did  not  take  young  brother  long  to  grow  a 
sizable  suspicion,  however.  Having  received  Anna's 
solemn  assurance  that  there  was  nothing  for  him 
in  the  clothes  room — nothing  there,  anyway,  save  a 
chair  or  two  and  the  clothes  hanging  behind  the 
curtains — I  overheard  this  in  one  of  their  pretended 
squabbles,  and  I  don't  believe  that  a  private 


32o  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

wink  went  with  it — he  proceeded  to  collect  and 
try  keys  from  all  over  the  house.  One  fitted,  of 
course. 

"Ho,  ho !  I  knew  you  had  it  in  here,  else  why 
did  you  lock  the  door?"  he  crowed.  "Anna  told 
me  it  was  in  there.  All  the  rest  of  you  fibbed." 

Was  it  not  a  delicate  revenge  on  the  faithful 
chambermaid  ?  But  oh !  how  wrathful  would  she 
have  been ! 

"That's  all  right,"  she  had  said,  as  Timothy 
exposed  one  of  the  boy's  prodigious  yarns  about 
having  been  born  in  Germany.  "That's  all  right; 
he  was  kiddin'  me  on  his  own  affairs  then,  but  let  me 
catch  him  in  the  lie  about  me!"  And  there  was 
somewhat  of  ominous  portent  in  the  determined 
setting  of  that  lower  jaw  and  the  straight  thin  line 
of  the  mouth.. 

Tilly,  of  course,  fairly  bubbled  over  at  the  thought 
of  the  madam's  homecoming,  and  for  aught  I  know 
extended  her  welcome  from  the  doorstep.  I  was  not 
present  on  that  occasion,  though  as  eager,  perhaps, 
as  the  circumstances  permitted.  It  was  my 
Sunday  afternoon  off,  and  at  half  past-four,  when 
Timothy  drove  off  to  the  station,  I  was  finishing  up 
the  dinner  dishes.  The  work  had  dragged  all  day. 
Breakfast  had  been  continued  on  through  the  morn- 
ing; dinner,  served  to  nine  at  the  table,  had  been 
almost  two  hours  late.  Miss  Parkly  had  bothered, 
as  usual.  If  the  coming  of  Mrs.  Hollis  meant  greater 
punctuality,  as  Tilly  seemed  to  think,  then  I  was 
glad,  too,  but  my  greeting  would  keep  until  morning. 
It  being  my  afternoon  out,  I  retired  with  all  speed 
to  my  room,  where  I  made  myself  comfortable  and 
added  several  hours'  beauty  sleep  to  my  account. 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  321 

in 

Monday  after  the  return  was  not  a  blue  Monday — 
unless  it  was  of  the  sky-blue-pink  that  the  fairies' 
gowns  are  made  of. 

" Everybody  looks  so  happy  this  morning,"  I 
observed  to  Miss  Elizabeth. 

"Everybody  is  so  happy,"  she  replied  with  an 
unconscious  smile.  "We  are  a  happy  family,  we 
are." 

They  were  happy,  for  mother  had  got  home.  We 
in  the  kitchen  realized  her  presence  early,  for  she 
began  just  where  she  had  left  off,  and  was  all  about 
looking  after  everything.  This  was  not  unexpected, 
and  I  for  one  had  not  been  above  getting  ready  for  it. 

"There's  a  lot  of  stuff  in  the  bread-box 
that  will  have  to  disappear  some  way,"  I  had 
announced  the  Thursday  before.  From  Mrs. 
Hollis,  from  Miss  Caroline,  from  Anna,  from 
Tilly,  and  from  Timothy,  I  knew  that  a 
collection  of  loaf-ends  and  stale  pieces  in  the 
bread-box  was  an  especial  abhorrence  and  a  sure 
invitation  to  audible  emphasis.  I  never  for  a  day 
forgot  this,  yet  with  Tilly  cutting  an  abundance  of 
thick  fresh  wedges  for  our  every  mess  what  could  I 
do?  To  throw  away  bread  was  an  outrage  upon 
instinct  and  training. 

"  I  can  use  some  for  stuffing, "  said  Tilly.  "  I  was 
going  to  order  an  extra  loaf  for  the  turkey. " 

She  did  use  some,  taking  great  credit  to  herself 
for  economy.  The  rest  I  toted  to  mess  three  times 
a  day  and  made  everybody  eat  at  least  one  piece  all 
around  until  Tilly  and  Anna  rebelled.  They  didn't 
like  stale  bread.  I  don't  know  that  I  do  either,  but 


322  TOILERS  OP  THE  HOME 

I  ate  it  to  the  finish.  I  took  on  the  stale-bread 
habit,  in  fact,  and  kept  it  as  long  as  I  stayed  there, 
for  it  seemed  the  straightest  course  between  the 
Scylla  of  Mrs.  Hollis's  wrath  and  the  Charybdis  of 
Tilly's  extravagance.  Not  that  I  speak  to  lament 
this  expediency.  There  is  hope  that  the  palate's 
loss  was  digestion's  gain. 

My  point  was  gained,  too.  On  Sunday  afternoon 
at  a  quarter  of  five  the  bread-box  was  ready  for 
inspection,  though  Mrs.  Hollis  deliberately  refrained 
from  looking  into  it  before  Tuesday.  She  thought, 
perhaps,  to  give  me  a  day  of  grace  because  I  was 
new;  or  perhaps,  having  looked  into  the  laundry, 
she  was  satisfied  with  what  she  had  seen  for 
one  day. 

"  Having  looked  into  the  laundry"  —I  choose  the 
words  advisedly,  for  in  no  possible  way  could  she 
have  got  into  the  laundry  that  morning.  My 
entrance  with  the  table  linen  had  not  been  without 
some  difficulty,  and  that  was  before  Mrs.  Nicholl 
and  Lilla  had  begun  operations. 

But  the  prospect  from  the  doorway  sufficiently 
astonished  the  good  madam.  The  room  fairly  over- 
flowed with  the  wash. 

"Why — why — what,  is  the  matter  here?  Where 
did  you  people  get  all  these  things  ?"  she  demanded. 

"We  don't  know  anything  only  that  we  found 
them  here  when  we  come ;  we  supposed  they  was  to 
be  washed, "  was  the  reply  of  innocence. 

Mrs.  Hollis  turned  to  the  chambermaid.  "Anna, 
are  you  responsible  for  all  this  here  in  the  laundry  ? 
I  want  to  keep  clean,  but  I  can't  have  such  washings 
as  this.  I  should  think  everything  in  the  house  was 
down  here." 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  323 

"  I  brought  them  down,  yes'm,  but  I  brought  only 
what  was  put  out, "  said  Anna. 

"Tell  me,  did  you  leave  anything  upstairs?"  was 
the  next  question.  But  Anna,  perceiving  irony, 
did  not  answer. 

"  I  don't  see  how  they  managed  to  use  so  much, " 
continued  Mrs.  Hollis.  "I  haven't  had  a  wash  like 
this  in  years — since  the  children  were  little. " 

''There's  company, "  suggested  Anna. 

" Company — yes;  but  Mrs.  Carruth  and  Miss 
Lubbock  haven't  made  all  this  difference,  I  know. " 

"And  the  nurse,"  suggested  Lilla. 

"She's  only  one  more.  Even  with  a  nurse  they 
oughtn't  to  have  got  this  lot  together." 

"Most  of  the  extra  is  sheets  and  nightdresses," 
volunteered  Mrs.  Nicholl  after  a  pause.  "There's 
nineteen  sheets." 

Mrs.  Hollis  gasped.  Then  she  was  enlightened 
as  to  the  way  of  the  nurse,  and  retired,  protesting 
that  if  she  must  go  into  business  she  would  like  to 
choose  which  one,  for  the  running  of  a  laundry  was 
not  to  her  taste. 

"But,  mother,  what  could  I  do?  What  would 
you  have  done  if  you  had  been  in  my  place?" 
asked  Miss  Jean,  who  took  the  maternal  criticism 
as  personal.  "The  nurse  demanded  a  whole  set  of 
clean  linen  every  day." 

"If  I  had  been  in  your  place,  daughter,  I  should 
have  got  everything  that  was  asked  for,  and  with 
less  judgment  and  discrimination." 

Mrs.  Hollis 's  reply  was  very  likely  a  truth  as  well 
as  a  comfort,  for  they  two  proved  to  be  one  on  the 
matter  of  their  ailing  cook.  Shortly  after  Miss 
Caroline  became  ill  Tilly  had  announced  that  her 


324  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

throat  was  sore.  Miss  Jean  and  Miss  Elizabeth 
thoughtfully  inquired  her  condition  each  morning. 
Miss  Parkly  also  did  her  duty,  even  to  pressing  upon 
Tilly  various  remedies  and  her  personal  services  in 
swabbing,  all  of  which  Tilly  declined,  while  her 
affliction  dragged  on.  One  day  she  was  "a  little 
better";  the  next  she  "wa'n't  no  better/'  though 
the  detailing  of  her  symptoms,  remedies  and 
precautions  was  ever  a  sustaining  comfort.  The 
possibility  of  coming  illness  was  freely  dwelt 
upon.  Miss  Jean  and  Miss  Elizabeth  were  both 
sympathetic  and  fearful;  and  Tilly  having  paved 
the  way  by  a  quotation  from  her  mother,  they 
said  immediately: 

"Oh,  do  go  home  right  away,  and  stay  until  you 
feel  better.  We  can  get  along." 

But  now  that  there  was  a  chance  Tilly  came  out 
strong  in  self-denial.  She  would  on  no  account 
desert  the  young  ladies  until  their  mamma  came 
home.  Though  they  begged,  she  would  not  be 
induced.  Nor  would  she  let  Timothy  drive  her  to 
the  doctor's.  She  would  feel  more  comfortable  to 
walk  over  later  in  the  morning. 

Poor  Tilly  did  look  picturesquely  pale  and  miser- 
able as  she  sat  by  the  kitchen  table  peeling  potatoes. 
The  madam,  coming  out  to  thank  the  maids,  espe- 
cially the  cook,  for  their  helpfulness  in  her  absence, 
was  not  unobservant. 

"How  do  you  do  this  morning,  Tilly?  My 
daughters  have  been  telling  me  that  you  aren't 
feeling  well." 

"I — I  don't  feel  very  well  this  morning,"  said 
Tilly  weakly,  in  an  expiring  voice. 

Timothy  reproduced  this  scene  for  us  at  mess 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  325 

afterward  with  highly  humorous  effect.  But 
Mrs.  Hollis  seemed  concerned,  and  talked  about  a 
draught  between  the  outside  and  the  cellar  doors ; 
about  the  cook's  going  home  until  she  should  feel 
better.  Tilly  agreed  that  her  cold  probably  came 
as  Mrs.  Hollis  suggested,  and  that  Mrs.  Hollis 's 
suggested  remedy  was  probably  the  only  wise  one ; 
yet  she  couldn't  think  of  taking  that  remedy 
and  leaving  Mrs.  Hollis  without  her  cook. 

"But,  Tilly,  if  you're  sick  you  must  get  well— 
that's  the  first  thing  necessary;  and  it's  a  pity  if  we 
can't  get  along  with  eight  well  women  in  the  house," 
argued  Mrs.  Hollis. 

She  argued  in  vain,  though  Tilly  confessed  that 
she  did  not  feel  able  to  work. 

"  Do  you  think  she's  coming  down  with  the  grip, 
Eliza?"  Miss  Parkly  asked  of  me  with  suppressed 
excitement,  as  I  carried  in  her  breakfast. 

"No,  not  if  she  takes  decent  care,"  said  I,  con- 
scious that  my  opinion  was  far  from  valuable. 
"She  has  a  heavy  cold  and  feels  wretched,  as  one 
with  a  heavy  cold  always  does.  But  Tilly  is 
nervous  and  delights  in  the  excitements  of  her 
imagination." 

"Oh,  do  you  think  so!"  exclaimed  the  white 
woman,  who  was  far  from  content  with  my  view. 

"I  think  her  symptoms  and  those  of  her  family 
are  her  chief  joy.  Anyhow,  she's  had  a  new  set 
every  day  or  two  since  I  came  here,"  I  returned. 

It  was  my  honest  thought,  though  the  open  utter- 
ance was  an  indiscretion  of  which  Anna  would  not 
have  been  guilty;  though  Anna  did  observe  con- 
fidentially and  with  some  scorn  that  there  was  no 
chance  for  any  draught  in  the  kitchen,  the  doors  were 


326  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

so  tight.  Of  that  matter  Anna  should  have  known, 
for  she  took  Tilly's  place  in  the  kitchen  for  the  better 
part  of  a  week,  to  accommodate  Mrs.  Hollis,  while 
Tilly  sat  upstairs  and  hemmed  napkins.  Save  on 
one  day  the  family  made  their  own  beds,  and  at  the 
end  of  the  week  Mrs.  Nicholl  and  Lilla  went  upstairs 
and  cleaned.  Thus  the  madam  avoided  the  strange, 
transient  cook,  which  she  dreaded. 

"  My,  what  a  feeling  woman  ! "  observed  the  white- 
gowned  one.  "Just  as  if  Tilly  was  one  of  her 
own  family.  You  don't  find  many  women  so 
sympathetic." 

That  was  my  own  thought  precisely,  though  Mrs. 
Hollis  had  made  no  secret  of  the  fact  that  her  eye 
was  to  her  own  interests.  Every  one  of  my  asso- 
ciate workers  marveled,  as  the  white  woman  did, 
at  such  generosity  and  kindness  of  heart. 

I  found  in  the  occasion  a  real  though  secret  joy 
besides.  With  the  coming  of  Anna  there  was 
peace.  Whatever  Anna's  secrets  were,  the  orders 
for  dinner  were  not  among  them.  And  when  the 
more  odorous  viands  were  preparing,  the  door 
between  the  kitchen  and  pantry  stayed  closed  as 
long  as  the  need  was. 

I  was  really  sorry  when  Tilly  could  no  longer  feel 
satisfied  to  stay  upstairs.  The  rest  from  her  work 
was  welcome,  but  the  greater  restraint,  though 
improving,  became  irksome  very  shortly.  Tilly  did 
not  like  it  upstairs.  Anna  did,  and  confessed 
frankly  that  she  was  glad  to  go  back. 

"  If  I  was  cook  I'd  be  so  ugly  all  the  time  nobody 
could  live  with  me, "  said  she,  ruminating  upon  the 
trials  of  the  position.  But  she  was  to  my  mind  as 
great  a  culinary  success  as  Tilly,  and  fully  as  patient 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  327 

under  tribulation.  That  Miss  Elizabeth  insisted 
upon  showing  her  how  chocolate  and  cream  dressing 
were  made  at  the  cooking-school  was  something  of 
a  nuisance,  though  not  without  its  compensation. 

The  madam,  too,  seemed  to  be  giving  herself  a 
series  of  home  lessons  in  cooking.  She  spent  two 
or  three  afternoons  in  the  kitchen  trying  new 
dishes,  and  Anna,  though  not  required  to  stay  in 
helpful  attendance,  seemed  to  feel  that  it  would  not 
be  good  form  for  her  to  leave.  Night  found  her,  in 
consequence,  quite  weary  and  still  in  her  morning  rig. 

"  The  madam's  a  lovely  lady,  I  like  her  great,  but 
I  hate  to  have  her  come  down  and  fuss  around," 
she  said. 

The  madam  expounded  to  Anna  one  afternoon 
the  mysteries  of  sweetbread  patties,  which  proved 
to  have  slight  adhesive  qualities  when  it  came  to  the 
frying.  Being  unaccustomed,  Anna  laid  out  on 
them  her  whole  attention.  Allan  chose  this  time 
to  come  down  for  some  fun,  but  instead  of  the  usual 
good-natured  banter  he  was  met  with  a  curt,  "  What 
do  you  want?" 

"Nothing,"  said  the  youth,  meekly  retiring. 
Timothy  came  in  and  demanded  his  dinner. 

"  You  sit  down  and  wait  until  I  can  get  it, "  was 
the  peremptory  reply. 

Timothy  opened  his  eyes,  but  sat  with  the  quiet- 
ness of  a  lamb. 

Tilly  came  downstairs  and  set  an  empty  grape 
basket  by  the  door,  preparatory  to  something  or 
another.  Anna  opened  the  door  and  kicked  the 
basket  into  outer  darkness. 

"  I  was  sorry  the  minute  after, "  she  confessed  to 
me,  "but  I  wouldn't  apologize." 


328  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

But  when  dinner  was  over — and  it  was  a  good 
one — Anna  was  herself  again.  "Was  everything 
all  right?'*  she  asked  eagerly.  "And  the  patties, 
did  they  like  them?" 

"Everybody  said  they  were  good  but  Allan,"  I 
reported.  "He  didn't." 

"Oh — the  kid!"  she  exclaimed  with  humorous 
indulgence. 

"And  the  rest  must  have  been  right,  for  there  is 
little  enough  left,"  I  finished. 

She  sighed  with  relief  and  tasted  the  comic  of  her 
late  temper  with  shamefaced  amusement. 

Tilly,  however,  couldn't  get  over  the  hurt  to  her 
feelings  from  the  basket  episode.  I  gave  her  some 
good  advice  on  the  subject,  to  the  effect  that  when 
people  were  hurried  or  bothered  they  sometimes  did 
upon  impulse  things  that  at  another  time  they 
wouldn't  think  of  doing;  and  that  generally  it  was 
just  as  well  not  to  notice  such  expressions. 

One  of  questionable  mental  capacity  is  inclined 
to  feel  undue  importance  over  a  slight  matter. 
Especially  did  this  seem  to  be  so  with  Tilly.  Things 
heard  and  overheard  upstairs  gave  rise  to  dark  hints 
of  inside  knowledge  on  various  matters,  such  as 
what  the  madam  said  to  somebody  about  the  nurse. 

"  You  mustn't  tell  that, "  warned  Anna. 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  going  to,  of  course, "  said  Tilly. 

But  if  my  memory  does  not  fail  me,  Anna  afterward 
listened  to  the  tale,  on  the  ground  that  she,  Anna, 
was  regular  upstairs  girl,  and  would  have  heard  it  if 
she  had  been  there.  Anna  was  as  safe  a  confidant 
as  anybody,  I  think — a  confidant  there  had  to  be. 

My  feelings  were  not  hurt  by  this  partiality, 
though  a  mild  curiosity  about  the  private  doings 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  329 

and  sentiments  of  the  ''great  folks"  had  come  to 
me  in  place  of  the  larger  interests  for  which  I  had  so 
little  time  and  opportunity.  About  the  woman  in 
white,  however,  all  my  curiosity  was  abundantly 
satisfied  at  first  hand.  The  family  were  busy  with 
holiday  affairs  and  often  in  town  all  day,  but  Miss 
Parkly  never  deserted.  I  will  say  for  her,  though, 
that  she  grew  rather  more  self -helpful  at  the  last. 
She  never  got  so  far  as  to  wash  up  and  put  away 
the  plate,  saucer,  cup,  lemon  squeezer,  two  knives 
and  two  spoons  seemingly  necessary  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  a  grape-fruit.  I  didn't  expect  it.  But  twice 
I  was  much  cheered  to  notice  an  attempt  to  wipe  up 
the  juice  spilled  on  my  clean  oilcloth  table-cover. 

"  You  have  so  much  to  do, "  she  said. 

Well,  yes ;  enough,  of  course ;  though  Mrs.  Hollis, 
being  of  expeditious  temper,  had  saved  for  me  from 
one  to  three-quarters  of  an  hour  daily  by  hurrying 
the  march  of  matinal  events.  Breakfast  really 
occurred  somewhere  in  the  vicinity  of  eight  o'clock 
or  half-past  now,  that  Mr.  Hollis  might  connect 
with  the  train  for  town.  And  besides  Mrs.  Hollis, 
any  who  were  going  away  could  be  relied  upon 
for  promptness.  The  three  orderly  courses  of 
Miss  Jean's  administration  were  no  more.  Every- 
thing went  on  at  once  and  everybody  followed  a 
chosen  order,  eating  less  and  finishing  more 
quickly.  Wherefore,  I  went  earlier  to  mess  and 
earlier  to  work  after  it. 

"You  see,  Lizy,  what  a  difference  it  makes 
having  the  madam  home,"  said  Tilly. 

There  might  have  been  a  greater  difference,  it  is 
true;  still  there  was  a  new  order.  And  because  of 
my  own  imprudence  my  joy  in  it  was  brief.  The 


330  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Friday  after  the  madam's  return  I  awoke  to  find  as 
much,  of  a  heavy  cold  as  could  be  accommodated 
there  settling  in  my  ear.  An  overflow  was  left  free 
to  make  a  general  unpleasantness  throughout  the 
corporeal  frame.  I  toasted  an  aching  ear  over  the 
kitchen  range  off  and  on  before  breakfast  that  morn- 
ing instead  of  beginning  to  clean  the  library.  Still, 

I  did  not  take  pattern  by  Tillie  and  retire  to  semi- 
invalidism,  as  I  might  easily. 

My  sympathy  rather  was  with  Anna,  who  said : 

II  If  any  little  thing  gets  the  matter  with  me  none  of 
them  will  know  it  so  long  as  I  can  keep  around. 
Not  but  what's  it  kind  of  'em  and  all  that,  but  I 
don't  want  to  be  bothered  with  taking  their  doses." 

I  was  much  diverted  by  their  doses  myself,  even 
though  I  was  really  bothered  by  the  taking. 

Mrs.  Hollis  visited  noon  mess  and  inquired  for  my 
health. 

"I'm  better, "  said  I,  getting  off  my  elbows. 

"You're  better  !  You're  sick  !"  said  the  madam 
with  decision.  "I'm  going  to  give  you  something. 
Does  your  head  ache?" 

"Not  especially.  I  got  cold  yesterday  when  I 
was  out ;  some  of  it  settled  in  my  ear  and  some  of  it 
didn't.  That's  everything  that's  the  matter,"  I 
repeated.  ' '  I  don't  want  to  take  anything  for  that . ' ' 

"Are  you  taking  anything?  Have  you  got  any- 
thing to  take  ?" 

"Yes.  My  colds  are  always  broken  up  by  the 
second  day." 

"What  do  you  take?" 

"Cold  water." 

"Cold  water  !"  she  ejaculated,  a  flicker  of  amuse- 
ment appearing  about  her  mouth.  "You'll  take 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  33 1 

something  besides  cold  water  to-night.  I'm  going 
to  give  you  quinine.  If  it's  a  cold  you  have,  all 
right ;  we'll  see  that  you're  rid  of  the  cold.  You  can 
take  your  cold  water,  too,  if  you  want  to,"  she 
added.  "  That  may  be  good  sometimes,  but  I  have 
more  faith  in  other  things. " 

Mrs.  Hollis  seemed  much  amused.  My  remedy 
was  too  simple,  but  I  have  found  it  effective.  An 
abundance  of  H2O  taken  in  the  beginning — cold 
inside,  hot  outside — has  routed  a  long  succession  of 
visiting  snuffles.  No  money  to  be  refunded,  no 
unpleasant  after-effects.  But  Mrs.  Hollis  gave  me 
quinine.  I  loathe  it.  Six  grains,  because  Miss 
Caroline  said  it  was  best  to  make  sure.  A  heroic 
dose,  desirable  for  those  who  like  it ;  but  half  of  that 
will  make  my  head  hum  like  a  top.  Personally, 
I  prefer  the  cold. 

In  the  presence  of  the  entire  family,  Mrs.  Hollis 
waylaid  me  as  I  passed  up  to  bed.  "  I  don't  need 
this,  Mrs.  Hollis ;  I  don't  want  it, "  I  objected. 

"  But  I  want  you  to  take  it, "  said  the  lady  win- 
ningly— -"  unless  there  is  some  special  reason  why 
you  can't  take  quinine.  You  need  something,  I 
think ;  quinine  is  good,  and  I  happen  to  have  it.  I 
don't  say  that  you  must  take  it,  of  course ;  I  have  no 
right  to  do  that,  but  I  shall  feel  much  better  satisfied 
if  you  will. "  She  smiled. 

I  sighed.  I  didn't  want  to  be  unpleasant,  and 
two  or  three  weak,  steamy  days  was  perhaps  a  cheap 
enough  price  for  her  peace  of  mind.  I  held  out  my 
hand  and  she  counted  three  pills  into  it. 

"  Now  wait  a  minute,  please, "  as  I  was  starting  on. 
"This  doctor  always  sees  the  patient  take  the 
medicine  right  here  in  the  office.  That  way  there 


332  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

can't  be  any  mistake;  so  I  made  it  a  rule  a  long 
time  ago — a  rule  without  any  exceptions." 

I  stood  meekly  by,  therefore,  a  martyr  to  a  smile, 
and  swallowed  the  dose  in  three  laborious  gulps,  the 
cup  of  cold  water  being  offered  after  each  one.  One 
of  the  guests  grinned  in  interest.  Miss  Parkly  was 
jubilant. 

Mrs.  Hollis  acted  from  kindly  motives  presumably, 
as  well  as  from  the  more  selfish  one  of  self -protect  ion. 
Still,  poor  maid  at  housework  though  I  was,  I  yet 
preferred  my  own  way,  Miss  Parkly's  advice  to  the 
contrary  notwithstanding. 

Miss  Parkly's  little  candle  was  not  to  light  our 
ignorant  pathway  much  longer.  It  was  a  comfort 
to  us  that  her  end  was  near.  I  especially  longed 
for  the  relief  of  her  absence,  for  I  could  ask  for  no 
help  with  the  burden  of  her  presence. 

That  occasion  when  Anna  chose  to  help  me  with 
the  dishes  was  one  of  three.  Anna  helped  Tilly 
and  me  only  when  she  chose,  or  when  Mrs.  Hollis 
requested  the  favour.  She  took  orders  only  for  the 
work  she  engaged  to  do — upstairs  work  and  sewing. 
It  was  her  principle. 

She  chose  to  help  Tilly  very  frequently  with 
dishes  and  other  things ;  me  less  often,  though  still 
once  in  awhile,  and  generally  by  advice. 

Anna  "did"  dishes  more  rapidly  than  I,  and 
presumably  quite  as  well.  Anna  prided  herself  upon 
doing  her  work  well.  But  I  liked  my  way  better,  if 
it  did  take  longer.  I  found  a  certain  satisfaction  in 
having  the  dishes  wholly  cleaned  off  before  they 
went  into  the  dishwater;  and  with  fine  china,  too 
great  expedition  meant  nicks,  I  noticed. 

Since  my  term  with  Mrs.  Scharff  I  had  believed 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  333 

in  saving  time,  too,  but  I  saved  in  other  ways.  In 
the  dining-room,  for  example. 

"A  sweeper  raises  comparatively  no  dust," 
thought  I.  "  If  I  can  go  over  the  whole  rug  with  it 
six  days  without  harm — everything  is  dusted  after- 
ward— why  not  also  on  Friday,  to  my  own  great 
saving  ?  Especially  as,  being  yet  new  to  the  task,  I 
feared  lest  one  hour  and  a  half  should  not  suffice  for 
the  other  more  thorough  way  of  moving  everything 
out  of  the  two  rooms  which  were  my  morning  stent. 
I  tried  my  plan  and  saw  no  difference  in  the  result. 

One  day,  weeks  after  the  burden  of  the  white 
gown  was  no  more,  and  the  weakness  from  my 
indisposition  and  its  remedy  had  passed,  the  madam 
observed  my  method. 

" Don't  you  feel  well  this  morning,  Eliza?" 

"Yes'm." 

"What  are  you  doing  now?" 

' '  Cleaning  the  dining-room, ' '  I  answered.  ' '  Why, 
what's  the  matter?"  I  asked,  for  the  madam 
was  looking  at  me  so  queerly. 

"  Do  you  always  clean  the  dining-room  this  way  ?" 

"Yes'm,"  I  said,  mildly  perplexed. 

"Oh,  Eliza!  This  isn't  the  way  I  clean  the 
dining-room,"  explained  the  madam. 

I  stared  innocently.     "  How  then  ? " 

"Why,  first  of  all,  dust  the  things  and  take  them 
out,  shake  out  and  knot  all  the  curtains,  shut  all  the 
doors,  and  then  clean." 

My  forgettery — bless  it !  I  had  not  a  single  guilty 
twinge.  "  Oh,  all  right ;  I'd  as  soon  do  it  that  way, 
if  you  prefer, "  and  I  began  that  minute  to  follow  her 
outline. 

"I  know  what's  the  trouble  with  you;  you  have 


334  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

never  been  told  how  I  clean  !"  the  madam  continued 
on  her  return  from  the  kitchen .  ' '  And  that '  s  because 
I  went  away,  with  three  new  girls  in  the  house.  My 
daughters  said,  'Oh,  yes,  you  go,  we  know  every- 
thing.' 'You  know  absolutely  nothing  about  how 
this  house  is  managed,'  I  said. " 

I  grinned  cheerfully.  It  was  not  until  the  next 
week,  when  I  began  properly,  that  it  came  to  me  that 
the  daughters  did  not  deserve  such  sweeping  con- 
demnation ;  that  it  was  not  the  first  time  I  had  done 
as  I  ought.  An  explanation  did  not  seem  necessary, 
however,  so  I  reformed  and  held  my  peace. 

Tilly  observed.  "I  told  you  so,"  said  she.  "I 
thought  you'd  see  the  difference  when  the  madam 
got  home. " 

I  did  not  explain  to  Tilly,  either.  But  Mrs.  Hollis 
did  not  increase  the  burden  of  my  life  appreciably. 

"  You  poor  thing,  you  haven't  had  any  mistress  or 
anybody  to  help  you  start !"  she  had  said  that  first 
Monday  after  she  came  home.  "  I  asked  them 
upstairs  who  had  told  Eliza  what  to  do,  who  had 
helped  her  to  get  acquainted.  Miss  Elizabeth  said 
she  guessed  Eliza  had  helped  herself;  she  hadn't 
thought  of  looking  after  her. " 

I  had  gone  my  own  gait,  of  a  truth,  with  sugges- 
tions and  hints  from  my  associates,  and  except  for 
the  few  things  of  which  Mrs.  Hollis  spoke  from  time 
to  time  I  continued  in  the  same  way. 

"You  cleaned  silver  to-day,"  she  said  medita- 
tively, one  Wednesday  evening.  "It  used  to  be 
done  on  a  Thursday. " 

Nobody  had  said  anything  to  me  about  silver.  I 
had  cleaned  it  on  Wednesday  of  the  first  week 
because  Thursday  had  been  Thanksgiving  Day; 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  335 

and  I  had  cleaned  it  on  Wednesday  of  the  second 
week  because  I  had  cleaned  it  on  Wednesday  of  the 
week  before,  I  explained.  I  did  not  always  finish 
before  lunch,  and  Thursday  brought  my  afternoon 
out.  This  additional  reason  I  did  not  include  in 
my  explanation. 

"  I  don't  see  but  Wednesday  is  as  good  a  day  for  it 
as  Thursday,"  observed  Mrs.  Hollis.  "Of  course,  I 
plan  the  work  for  the  house  a  certain  way ;  I  have  to. 
But  if  a  girl  thinks  she  has  a  better  plan,  one  that 
suits  her  better,  I  do  not  object.  All  I  require  is 
that  she  shall  do  the  work,  take  good  care  of  my 
things,  and  not  interfere  with  me."  Mrs.  Hollis 
was  eminently  reasonable. 

It  seemed  queer,  though,  after  two  weeks  in  her 
house,  to  be,  as  I  was  at  her  coming  home,  still  new 
and  untried.  For  the  first  thing,  she  observed  that 
I  was  forever  ironing,  and  decided  that  I  was  slow. 
"  You'll  have  to  hurry  with  your  ironing  next  week, 
Eliza,  to  get  done  before  Wednesday.  We  can't 
have  people  working  around  here  Christmas  Day," 
she  said.  Again  on  Saturday  she  reminded  me,  lest 
I  should  forget ;  and  on  Monday.  She  didn't  realize, 
of  course,  the  practical  difference  between  two  dozen 
and  five  dozen  table  napkins.  The  trained  nurse 
had  been  very  lavish  with  the  linen,  and  Tilly  had 
hemmed  a  dozen  new  ones  the  week  before. 

"Be  looking  out  to  get  your  silver  done  early, 
Eliza ;  you  might  be  cleaning  some  pieces  now, "  the 
madam  suggested  in  the  middle  of  Saturday  after- 
noon as  I  sat  down  for  a  little  rest.  It  is  my  private 
belief  that  the  madam  herself  never  rested. 

"I'll  get  everything  done  in  season;  you  don't 
need  to  worry  one  speck,"  I  replied.  In  memory 


336  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

of  my  former  employer,  Mrs.  Scharff,  I  refused  ab- 
solutely to  be  prodded. 

"  Why,  where  are  the  napkins,  Eliza  ?"  Mrs.  Hollis 
asked  anxiously  on  Tuesday  morning,  as  a  hasty 
rummage  through  the  clothes-basket  failed  to  find 
them.  ' '  There's  nothing  here  but  Anna's  towels. ' ' 

"They're  in  the  drawer,"  I  replied.  Although  I 
had  not  yet  begun  for  that  day,  I  had  still  some 
ironing  to  do — my  uniform  and  aprons — which  would 
close  that  chapter  for  the  week  and  give  the  rest  of 
the  day  for  the  silver. 

"  Oh,  you've  picked  them  out  already  !" 

"Yes'm;  and  ironed  them  and  put  them  away." 

"What!  All  finished!"  Her  amazement  was 
hardly  flattering.  "Heth,  but  ye  got  a  gait  on!" 
she  is  supposed  to  have  ejaculated  under  her  breath 
in  the  first  flush  of  surprise.  This  is  from  Tilly's 
report.  My  hearing  is  excellent  but — well,  I  was 
farther  away  than  Tilly. 

"When  did  you  do  them,  Eliza?"  She  was 
pleased,  anyhow. 

"Yesterday  afternoon.  I  always  get  them  done 
Monday,  when  there  isn't  a  trained  nurse,"  I  added 
simply.  "  I  can't  do  it  when  there  is. " 

The  madam  smiled  a  peculiar  smile.  "There  are 
a  number  of  things  we  can't  any  of  us  do  when  there 
is  a  trained  nurse ;  some  that  we'd  very  much  like  to 
do."  I  think  the  madam  had  a  purpose  in  saying 
this,  that  I  might  not  think  myself  abused  as  the 
only  sufferer  from  a  general  affliction. 

But  my  difficulties  of  cleanliness  did  not  end  with 
table  napkins.  I,  myself,  was  an  item,  and  my 
own  small  wash  in  the  laundry,  with  all  the 
conveniences,  was  to  become  as  great  a  bugbear  as 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  337 

the  whole  Wetherly  washing  in  portable  tubs  had 
been.  The  proper  time  for  such  duties,  the  time 
chosen  by  my  predecessors,  was  Monday  morning 
before  seven  o'clock,  before  Mrs.  Nicholl  and  Lilla 
should  have  arrived;  but  I  never  achieved  that. 
At  the  first,  I  was  afraid  not  to  begin  with  my  other 
work  lest  something  might  happen  and  I  should  not 
be  ready;  and  afterward  I  wanted  for  resolution  to 
make  the  night  one  bit  shorter  than  it  had  to  be. 
My  feet  were  protesting  against  abuse  in  a  way  that 
called  for  some  concession. 

On  Monday  after  the  women  had  come  there  was 
no  opportunity  for  me  until  afternoon,  and  then  my 
presence  in  the  laundry  was  a  nuisance ;  this  was  true 
of  Tuesday  also.  On  other  days  the  routine  lasted 
until,  when  it  was  possible,  I  was  too  glad  to  take  a 
short  rest  before  beginning  again  for  the  evening. 
Had  I  not  been  always  so  weary  at  the  odd  times 
when  I  might  have  sandwiched  this  work  between 
other  exigencies,  I  should  have  been  glad  to  be  less 
economical  in  the  matter  of  aprons.  I  wore  my 
aprons  both  sides  out,  turning  them  always,  and  that 
none  too  soon.  My  dresses  also,  though  always  worn 
too  many  days,  sometimes  gave  out,  and  I  appeared 
in  my  own  clothes  for  a  season.  These  facts  were 
observed,  I  think,  but  never  mentioned  to  me,  which 
was  perhaps  better  than  was  deserved  of  such  shift- 
lessness. 

I  counted  it  an  "  easy  place ' '  at  the  Hollises' .  But 
for  my  suffering  feet,  the  nights  must  have  been 
always  long  enough  and  the  labours  of  the  day  those 
of  joyous  ease,  as  at  the  first ;  for  the  work  was  light, 
seeming,  by  contrast  with  what  had  gone  before,  more 
like  play.  Only  it  was,  as  Anna  said,  constant. 


338  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

That  I  could  not  be  in  this  cheerful  mind  during  my 
last  days  there  is  a  matter  for  regret.  I  could  not 
help  it  that,  from  being  continually  upon  them,  my 
feet  should  grow  inflamed  and  swollen  (that  had  hap- 
pened in  each  of  my  places  save  the  second),  or  that 
a  few  new  corns  should  be  painful  in  consequence. 

One  such,  souvenir  of  the  Scharffs,  was  peculiarly 
troublesome,  being  situated  on  the  under  outer  edge 
of  the  smallest  phalangeal  appendage — that  is,  the 
little  toe.  A  slight  turning  of  the  foot  to  the  inside 
saved  the  pain  of  walking  on  it  and  brought  a  worse 
thing  upon  me.  In  four  weeks  my  shoe  had  twisted 
so  badly  that  the  heel  measured  two  lifts  on  the  inside 
to  five  on  the  outside,  and  the  ankle  with  the  cords 
or  muscles  were  so  strained  that  they  ached  and 
tingled  to  the  knee.  My  other  shoes  were  heavy 
calf,  fifteen  button  length,  and  unbearably  heavy 
for  the  house.  Four  dollars  a  week  would  not  com- 
pass new  shoes  and  my  other  plans.  I  might  have 
had  the  heels  squared,  I  suppose,  but  the  three  leisure 
hours  I  had  each  week  were  already  too  short  for 
my  affairs ;  and  there  were  so  many  other  things  to 
think  about ! 

Hot  foot-baths  at  night,  experiments  in  walking 
on  the  ball  of  the  foot  simply,  and  on  the  outside, 
with  heroism  worthy  of  a  better  cause,  sufficed  for  a 
time.  Very  soon,  however,  the  putting  on  of  my  shoes 
in  the  morning  became  exquisite  torture,  and  the 
pain  of  it  less  and  less  easily  forgotten  or  adjusted 
as  the  day  went  on,  until  at  last  the  misery  was  no 
longer  bearable.  That  was  the  limit.  It  was  time 
I  had  left,  and  henceforth  I  endured  only  to  get 
away. 

It  seemed  a  long  time  since  I  had  promised  myself 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  339 

that  Eliza  should  be  known  no  more  by  Christmas. 
But  again  there  was  the  question  of  wage.  The 
nearer  one  gets  to  bankruptcy  the  more  momentous 
does  a  difference  of  six  dollars  become.  All  the 
family,  too,  was  preoccupied  with  holiday  affairs,  so 
it  seemed  kinder  to  wait  a  bit.  On  the  other  hand, 
Timothy  had  given  us  to  understand  that  the 
Hollises'  were  wont  to  remember  their  workers 
generously  at  Christmas  time.  That  was  an  em- 
barrassment I  would  have  fain  escaped.  I  did  not 
rate  myself  very  highly  as  maids  go,  but  I  did 
shrink  from  being  ranked  with  the  no-account 
sort  who  engage  in  a  place  just  before  Christmas 
for  the  sake  of  leaving  just  after.  But  a  warning 
before  the  twenty-fifth  would  no  doubt  clear  my 
difficulties. 

It  was  not  easy  to  give  notice  to  Mrs.  Hollis.  I 
regretted  the  necessity,  as  I  had  twice  before. 
Moreover,  the  season  was  unfortunate,  and  I  had  not 
for  my  last  employer  the  adequate  excuse  I  felt  to 
be  her  due.  Her  gift  for  arranging  things  was 
likely  to  be  inconvenient  for  me  also,  yet  I  have 
repented  my  too  ingenious  confession. 

I  did  not  spring  my  news  upon  the  lady  too  sud- 
denly. She  was  not  likely  to  lack  for  surprise  at 
the  last  if  the  way  should  be  a  little  prepared. 
Miss  Elizabeth  made  my  opportunity  as  I  sat  in 
the  pantry  one  evening  making  butter  balls,  my 
chosen  fancy  work  for  evening.  Miss  Elizabeth 
had  come  down  to  make  fudge.  She  gave  me  some : 
we  working  people  usually  appreciated  the  home- 
made sweets. 

"That  is  good,'*  said  I.  "You  had  good  luck— 
I  mean  skill." 


340  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Miss  Elizabeth  laughed.  "You  were  right  the 
first  time,  I  fear.  I  haven't  made  fudge  for  a  long 
while  until  just  lately,  though  I  used  to  make  it 
often  enough." 

"  The  girls  always  used  to  be  making  it  at  school," 
I  said  reminiscently,  "though  I  didn't  make  it  very 
often  myself,  being  willing  to  butter  the  tins  and 
wash  the  dishes ;  it  was  less  work." 

"Boarding-school?"  suggested  Miss  Elizabeth 
promptly. 

"College,"  I  corrected. 

For  a  few  minutes  the  fudge  claimed  all  her  atten- 
tion, as  the  butter  balls  took  all  of  mine. 

"What  college?"  came  next. 

1  told. 

"Did  you  graduate?" 

"Yes." 

"Last  year?" 

"No ;  three  years  ago." 

She  spoke  of  meeting  some  older  alumnae  whom  I 
knew  but  slightly,  and  then  went  straight  upstairs 
and  told  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Hollis  was  profoundly  amazed.  "Then 
what  in  the  world  is  she  here  for?"  demanded  the 
matron. 

"I  don't  know,  mother;  I  was  so  surprised  I 
didn't  know  enough  to  ask." 

On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-fourth  Mrs.  Hollis 
sat  at  her  accounts  in  the  library.  I  was  clearing 
the  breakfast  table  and  promising  with  every  trip 
into  the  pantry  that  after  the  next  I  would  go  to 
her  and  speak. 

But  she  called  to  me  instead.  "Would  you  be 
willing  to  take  a  different  afternoon,  Eliza  ?  Friday 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  341 

is  not  a  good  day  for  the  cook  to  go  out  because  all 
the  market  men  come  then,  and  Tilly  ought  to  be 
here." 

I  had  no  niece  two  blocks  over  and  one  up,  I 
had  no  crony  with  whom  to  enjoy  my  leisure 
anyway,  so  that  after  the  present  week  all  days 
were  alike  to  me. 

"Eliza,  my  daughter  tells  me  you  were  graduated 
from  a  college  within  two  or  three  years."  Had  I 
been  a  society  butterfly  straight  from  a  season  at 
Newport  I  could  not  have  taken  exception  at  her 
manner,  which  was  hardly  different  from  usual. 
The  madam  was  no  snob,  and  her  treatment  of  me 
did  not  vary  from  first  to  last. 

"I  was  very  much  surprised,"  went  on  Mrs.  Hollis. 
"Not  that  it  isn't  all  right,  but  it  is  very  unusual  to 
find  a  person  with  as  much  ability  as  you  must  have 
had  to  complete  such  an  experience,  with  the  wil- 
lingness to  do  work  of  this  kind." 

I  could  not  deny  the  truth  of  her  observation. 

"I'm  very  anxious  to  know  why,  after  going 
through  college,  you  have  chosen  to  come  here  and 
do  this  work,  if  you  don't  mind  telling  me." 

Then  I  did  tell  her  the  absolute,  literal  truth  in  its 
entirety.  Every  reason  that  had  influenced  me,  so 
far  as  I  could  recall,  I  gave  her.  My  experience 
before  coming  to  her  I  sketched  briefly.  "And 
now  I  am  ready  to  stop;  my  soul  is  satisfied  and 
I'm  going  to  discontinue  the  trade — with  the  end 
of  the  month,  if  that  is  not  especially  inconvenient 
for  you." 

She  was  amazed  yet  more.  It  must  have  been 
a  trying  moment  and  such  as  I  would  not  court  for 
myself,  yet  she  bore  it  well.  She  recovered  quickly. 


342  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"The  plan  certainly  speaks  well  for  your  courage 
and  enterprise, ' '  she  said.  ' '  I  really  can't  blame  you, 
though  I — you — it's  rather  hard  on  us,  of  course. 
I  shall  be  much  interested  in  what  you  think  about 
us,"  she  concluded,  wishing  me  well  with  a  heartiness 
which  surprised  me.  "So  I  must  begin  to  look 
for  somebody  else?  I'm  sorry  to  have  you  go, 
Eliza,  very  sorry,  indeed/' 

Christmas  at  the  Hollises*  was  very  pleasant,  I 
thought,  considering  that  I  was  still  in  professional 
harness.  Tilly  remarked  that  I  seemed  happier 
and  more  jolly.  Whereat  I  grinned  and  said  nothing. 
The  lady  from  my  last  place  had  not  driven  over  to 
leave  pretty  gifts  from  all  the  family,  as  well  as 
mementoes  of  a  summer  in  Europe,  to  be  sure. 
Neither  had  I  received  a  pair  of  nice  kid  gloves 
through  the  mail.  My  son  had  not  presented  me 
with  a  gold  ring,  the  cook  had  not  shown  her  good 
will  in  a  pair  of  yellow  sidecombs,  nor  the  chamber- 
maid hers  in  a  white  apron.  But  the  compensation 
was  adequate.  My  good-by  to  Tilly,  to  dishes 
and  to  trays  was  very  near.  I  did  not  even  care  that 
I  waited  in  vain  for  a  peek  at  the  "three  little  hand- 
kerchers"  which  Anna  had  seen  and  prophesied  to 
be  Miss  Lubbock's  parting  gift  to  us. 

Anna,  Tilly  and  I  were  in  our  room  in  various 
stages  of  undress,  Tilly  visiting  Anna.  I  was  glad 
to  be  at  last  accepted  as  an  inevitable  even. 

"They're  pretty  little  handkerchers,"  said  Anna 
fondly.  "But  what  kind  of  a  present  is  that  for 
company  to  leave  for  the  chambermaid — one  hand- 
kerchief !"  She  preferred  the  more  vulgar  specie  of 
her  memories  or  traditions. 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  343 

"Sure,  I  think  a  nice  handkerchief  is  a  nice  thing 
to  have,  and  I'm  that  anxious  to  see  mine  I  can 
hardly  wait,"  I  said,  sighing  extravagantly. 

"Oh,  yes;  I  think  a  nice  handkerchief  is  awful 
nice;  I  didn't  mean  I  was  thinking  of  refusing  it," 
she  returned  waggishly. 

Miss  Lubbock  went  away  days  before  Christmas. 
She  came  out  especially  to  say  good-by  to  us, 
shaking  my  wrist  instead  of  my  hand,  which  was 
black  with  silver-polish.  Anna  and  I  agreed  that 
she  was  a  sweet  little  lady.  Even  Tilly  didn't 
"mind  her." 

"Now,  where  are  our  handkerchiefs,  Anna?"  I 
demanded,  being  in  want  of  some  remark  that  would 
show  my  sociability. 

"Aw — Lizy  !  what  a  hurry  you're  in  !  Ye  must 
wait  pretty  until  yer  presents  are  given  ye. " 

"  When'll  that  be,  Anna  ?  At  Christmas  ?  Don't 
you  think  we  ought  to  have  'em  now,  so  we  could  be 
using  them  right  along?" 

The  girl  snickered.  "  Now  don't  ye  be  so  greedy 
to  know  and  see  everything,  child.  Christmas  is 
not  the  time  to  be  asking  questions  and  wantin'  to 
see  things,  is  it,  Tilly  ? " 

If  Anna's  surmise  had  not  been  correct,  that  was 
the  time  to  have  said  so.  But  I  did  not  press  the 
matter.  After  the  chambermaid's  sober  assurance : 
"You'll  get  it  all  right.  You'll  get  all  that's  comin' 
to  you, "  I  divined  that  I  had  already  said  too  much. 
The  presents  I  did  get  claimed  attention  beyond 
their  share.  They  were  laid  before  me  on  Christmas 
Eve  as  I  sat  with  Anna  and  Tilly  about  the  mess- 
room  table.  All  three  of  us  fared  alike. 

"  I  told  the  children  it  was  better  to  put  what  we 


344  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

had  together  and  give  as  a  family  this  year, "  said  the 
madam,  wishing  us  "A  Merry  Christmas." 

Tilly  and  I  rendered  a  simple  thank  you,  and  said 
we  thought  her  very  kind  to  remember  us  so  gener- 
ously. 

"I  wonder  which  is  from  Mr.  Hollis, "  said  Tilly, 
after  the  madam  had  gone. 

"This,"  said  Anna,  laying  her  hand  on  the 
challies. 

"  Did  he  go  in  the  store  and  pick  'em  out  ? " 

4 '  No.  The  women  folks  always  do  that  business, ' ' 
said  the  more  experienced  one.  "The  men  just 
give  the  money  and  the  women  get  what  they 
think." 

Tilly  and  I  continued  to  jabber,  and,  after  much 
diplomacy  on  both  sides,  effected  an  exchange  in 
dress  goods,  as  Mrs.  Hollis  had  suggested  we  might 
wish  to. 

"My  mamma  will  never  let  me  wear  that  red," 
said  Tilly,  eyeing  her  percale. 

I  knew  mine  wouldn't  mind,  especially  as  I  lend 
rather  a  dusky  effect  to  the  contiguous  landscape. 
Tilly  is  pale  and  blue-eyed. 

"  Now,  I'm  perfectly  satisfied, "  said  Tilly.  "  I'm 
sure  this  is  more'n  I  expected,  and  they're  all  nice, 
sensible  things  for  us.  Don't  you  like  'em,  Anna?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  like  'em;  the  presents  is  nice  and 
useful." 

"  What's  the  matter,  then  ? "  insisted  Tilly.  "  You 
ain't  said  anything  for  a  long  time.  Lizy  and  me 
been  talking  here  all  alone. " 

"That  just  happened,"  said  the  chambermaid. 
"I  was  thinkin'." 

"  What  ? "  urged  the  little  one. 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  345 

"Nothin',"  was  the  answer. 

"Thinkin',  and  of  nothin'  !"  exclaimed  Tilly. 
"That's  funny. " 

"Well,  then,  if  you  must  have  it — it  isn't  a  nice 
thing  to  say,  and  I  wouldn't  for  the  world  have  them 
know  that  I  wasn't  satisfied.  I  am  satisfied,  only 
since  I  come  to  this  country  I  never  fared  so  poor  a 
Christmas." 

Tilly  gasped.  "With  all  these  things  and  what 
you've  had  from  the  Beverlys,  too?" 

"  Yes,  countin'  them,  too, "  said  Anna  with  a  smile 
for  Tilly's  wonder.  "Sure's  I  live,  I  tell  you  the 
truth;  there  isn't  been  a  Christmas  I've  lived  out 
that  I  didn't  get  five  dollars  from  the  boss. " 

"Oh-h  !"  said  Tilly,  and  there  was  silence. 

"Only  look  at  the  little  time  we've  been  here, 
Anna, "  the  cook  resumed  after  a  bit.  "  Lizy  four 
weeks,  me  six,  and  you  eight.  No  one  of  us  here 
more  than  two  months.  I  don't  see  how  you  could 
expect  anybody  to  give  more'n  this  for  that  time. 
They  couldn't  get  much  interested  in  us  in  two 
months.  I'm  sure  I  think  they've  done  well;  I 
wouldn't  a-looked  for  any  more  if  we'd  been  here  a 
year.  But  then,  I  wasn't  lookin'  for  anything  at 
all,  so  of  course  I  couldn't  be  disappointed. " 

The  little  cook  surprised  me.  Could  she  have  had 
"all  her  buttons, "  after  all  ? 

"Yes,  it's  enough  and  more,"  agreed  Anna.  "I 
forgot  it  was  only  eight  weeks  since  I  come ;  it  seems 
as  if  I'd  been  here  forever." 

I  was  glad  Anna  had  the  grace  to  be  ashamed, 
for  I  like  not  the  faint  spirit-shadow  even  of  that 
time  when  it  was  the  custom  to  line  up  the  stairway 
and  give  the  morning  greeting  of  "Chris'mus  gif,' 


346  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

masser !  Chris'mus  gif,  missus!"  meaning,  we  are 
as  thy  children,  dependent  on  thy  bounty,  give  us 
our  yearly  wage.  In  a  region  where  the  newsboys, 
the  ashmen,  the  garbagemen  and  the  night  watchmen 
take  advantage  of  that  they  should  not — to  turn 
mendicants  and  go  a-begging  for  alms — it  is  good 
to  find  a  poor  stout-hearted  washerwoman  or  two 
respecting  herself ;  asking  of  wealth  only  her  chance 
to  labour  for  fitting  wage,  and  demanding  for  her 
gifts  that  they  shall  carry  a  message  warm  with 
personal  affection  or  esteem. 

"Yes,  they  give  because  they  are  kind  and  I  am 
poor ;  and  it  is  the  custom  to  remember  the  working 
people.  I  take  it,  they  wouldn't  understand  if  I 
refused;  they  would  be  hurt  or  angry.  I'll  put  it 
in  the  bank  and  it'll  grow,  but  I  don't  care  for  it. 
I  have  plenty  from  what  I  earn,  and  this  means 
nothing  to  me  like  the  little  things  for  twenty-five 
cents  and  fifty  cents  that  my  children  or  the 
neighbours  buy  for  me  in  the  shops." 

She  may  have  been  oversensitive,  too  slow  to 
acknowledge  honest  sentiment  in  the  more  fortunate 
employer,  but  her  sturdy  independence  seems  more 
womanly,  more  fitting  in  a  twentieth-century 
democracy.  Not  that  those  to  whom  it  has  been 
given  should  not  give  again.  Now,  as  ever,  since 
there  came  to  be  brethren  on  the  earth,  there  are  the 
same  two  kinds — the  more  favoured  and  the  less 
favoured.  Now,  and  until  this  difference  in  fortune 
shall  cease  to  be  among  brethren,  it  will  be  right 
for  the  one  to  help  the  other.  But  how  long  before 
both  will  have  learned  to  shift  the  emphasis 
from  the  participle  to  the  noun,  according  to  the 
rule  read  long  ago  by  Him  whose  life  was  the 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  347 

gospel  of  love?     As  well  to  ask  when  the  millen- 
nium shall  be. 

I  did  not  think  much  about  millennial  conditions 
in  those   days.     I  thought  about   my  own  gifts, 
undeserved   and   not   returnable,    for   Mrs.    Hollis 
would  not  take  them  back.     They  were  an  uncom- 
fortable possession.     Moreover,   it  seemed  scarcely 
decent  to  leave  Mrs.  Hollis  when  I  had  planned, 
because,  through  a  misunderstanding,  she  had  not 
begun  to  look  for  my  successor.     And  finally,  Anna 
had  slid  suddenly  into  a  very  disgruntled  state  of 
mind.     The  cause  I  was  still  to  learn,  though  the 
fact  had  been  made  patent  enough. 

"I  say,  Anna,  I've  asked  the  madam  to  let  me 
go  in  town  Saturday  to  have  the  muscle  of  my  eye 
cut.  You  wouldn't  mind  doing  my  work  then, 
and  Sunday— 

II  Yes,  I  do  mind  doing  your  work  !     I  want  you 
and  everybody  else  here  to  know  that  I  do  nobody's 
work  but  my  own  that  I  was  engaged  to  do.     I  went 
into  the  kitchen  for  one  week  and  cooked  so  Tilly 
could  be  upstairs.     I   did  it   because  the  madam 
asked   me   for   the   favour,    and    I   made    up    me 
mind  I'd  never  do  it  again  for  anybody,  and  that 
I'll  stick  to." 

Her  cheeks  flamed,  there  was  fire  in  her  eyes,  and 
her  voice  gathered  force  as  to  drown  an  imaginary 
din.  It  was  a  whole  bunch  of  firecrackers. 

"Wa-al,  naow !  Leetle  touchy  this  morning,  air 
ye?"  I  observed,  somewhat  taken  aback. 

II 1  should  think  you'd  be  willing  to  do  that,  Anna, 
for  Lizy,  while  she  has  her  eye  fixed,"  put  in  Tilly 
mildly.     Verily,  in  the  promise  of  symptoms  there  is 
power  to  allure  if  not  to  soothe. 


348  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

"Well,  and  I'll  not  then.  Let  her  get  her  eye 
fixed  on  Thursday,  her  right  day,"  the  chambermaid 
growled. 

' '  Thursday  isn't  convenient  for  that.  I've  got  a  lot 
of  other  things  to  do  then,  anyhow,  and  I  thought, 
it  being  my  Sunday  afternoon  off  this  week,  whereas 
it's  only  your  Sunday  evening  off,  that  you  might 
be  willing  to  make  a  trade — I  to  go  Saturday,  and 
you,  for  the  convenience  of  the  change,  to  take  my 
time  Sunday,  which  would  be  three  or  four  hours 
more  than  you  could  get  the  regular  way.  If  you 
don't  want  to,  you  can  fix  it  up  with  Mrs.  Hollis  as 
you  may.  I've  asked  to  go  and  my  appointment 
is  made." 

"Oh,  well,  that  I  will  do  willingly.  That's  only 
my  own  regular  work,  and  I'll  accommodate  ye  by 
changing  days.  I  thought  you  were  fixin'  to  go 
away  to  stay  over  Sunday,  and  me  to  do  your  work." 

"Yes,  you  went  off  so  sudden  you  didn't  have 
time  to  find  out  what  for,  for  fear  somebody  might 
want  to  impose  on  you.  I'm  glad  you  did,  though, 
'cause  you  look  so  pretty  when  you're  mad;  don't 
she,  Tilly?" 

Anna's  mouth  softened  the  merest  bit.  "Now, 
don't  go  to  makin'  fun  of  people  for  what  they  can't 
help,"  she  advised.  "  It  isn't  nice." 

"For  true  I  mean  it,  Anna — only,  next  time  I'd 
wait  till  I  found  out  what  I  was  getting  mad  for; 
it  looks  a  little  better,  I  think." 

"Yes,  it  does.     I  will,"  said  Anna. 

I  pondered  Anna's  possible  grievance  until,  as  with 
a  flash,  there  came  an  idea  which  was  proven  on 
opportunity. 

We  were  alone  and  going  to  bed  when  Anna 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  349 

made  open  allusion  to  "the  stingy  people  down- 
stairs." 

"  Stingy  ?  Oh,  I  don't  know.  Why  do  you  think 
so  ?  Didn't  you  get  extra  money  for  the  week  you 
worked  in  the  kitchen,  Anna?"  I  knew  she  had 
counted  on  it. 

"I  did  not."  The  girl's  lips  came  together 
quickly.  "I  got  four  dollars  same  as  always,  and 
Tilly  got  five  dollars  for  sittin'  upstairs  and  doin' 
nothin'.  They  don't  care  who  does  the  work  here, 
so  it's  done." 

I  had  thought  she  would  get  more,  and  Tilly  less. 
Perhaps  she  would,  had  not  Christmas,  company,  the 
waiter-girl's  notice  and  probably  other  distractions 
happened  in  the  fortnight  between  our  two  pay-days. 
Tilly's  indisposition  had  come  in  the  first  week. 

"An'  I  say,"  said  Anna,  "after  this  if  anything 
ails  the  girls  that  they  can't  work  let  the  madam 
get  a  woman  to  come  in."  Anna  apologized  for  her 
hastiness  of  the  morning,  but  that  in  no  way  affected 
her  resolution. 

"I  have  to  go  in  town  this  afternoon  to  see  the 
doctor,"  I  confided  to  her  two  days  later,  which  was 
Monday. 

"Yes?  All  right,  I  don't  care,"  said  she.  "It 
ain't  my  business." 

"Shall  you  be  back  for  dinner  ?"  asked  the  madam. 

"I — don't — know — as  I  can,"  I  said,  fervently 
hoping  for  that  to  be  the  case.  It  was  the  day 
when  I  would  have  said  good-by  for  all  time. 

"Good-by,"  said  Anna,  as  I  passed  through  the 
kitchen.  "Say,  you're  comin'  back  to  wait  on  'em 
to-night,  aren't  ye?  Because  if  ye  don't,  they'll 
wait  dinner  till  ye  do  come,  or  wait  on  themselves. 


3So  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

The  dishes  will  be  left  for  ye.  I'll  do  none 
of  it." 

Her  teeth  set  together  characteristically.  I 
divined  that  the  madam  had  been  denied  a  request. 

"I  can't  tell,"  said  I  airily.  "If  I'm  back  I'm 
back ;  if  I'm  not  I'm  not ;  any  way  at  all,"  and  I  was 
gone.  But  I  ran  one  square  to  catch  the  last  plat- 
form of  the  last  train  before  Mr.  Hollis's  that  night. 

With  Anna  less  fractious  I  might  have  found  it 
convenient  to  go  on  Tuesday,  as  Mrs.  Hollis  urged 
and  as  I  had  long  planned,  to  a  Freeland  festivity  of 
special  and  particular  interest  to  me.  But  Anna  was 
fractious.  Putting  myself  in  her  place,  with  my 
own  experience  behind  me,  how  can  I  blame  the  girl 
for  putting  up  her  only  defense?  And  Tilly,  the 
echo,  seemed  also  of  a  sudden  to  be  quite  sour  on 
the  madam,  scoring  her  stinginess  as  loudly  as  she 
had  before  lauded  her  generosity.  "Pretty  soon  we 
won't  have  anything  out  here  at  all.  I  would  like 
enough  to  eat." 

In  general,  Tilly's  mood  was  no  doubt  based  on 
Anna's  grievance.  But  in  particular,  Tilly,  having 
escaped  the  labour  of  making  dessert,  was  wroth 
because  only  eight  cream  puffs  came  instead  of  the 
usual  dozen.  I  had  fairly  to  fight  with  her  to  save 
those  cream  puffs  intact  for  the  dining-room.  There 
weren't  any  for  the  mess-room,  of  course. 

This  seemed  to  be  a  departure.  If  it  really  was 
a  new  rule  there  was  poetic  justice  in  it,  for  Tilly 
had  "pinched"  very  freely  from  the  fruits  and  other 
luxuries,  lunching  upon  them  at  will.  After  the 
time  when  three  pounds  of  Malaga  grapes  disap- 
peared so  mysteriously  between  a  Sunday  and  a 
Tuesday  morning,  having  been  only  once  on  the 


FOR'  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  351 

table,  the  madam  did  not  buy  them  any  more,  save 
a  few  at  a  time  and  occasionally.  But  Tilly  seemed 
innocent  of  such  reflections  as  these.  Tilly  was 
injured. 

"Oh,  pshaw!"  said  I;  "you're  all  right;  some 
girls  never  get  dessert." 

"I  wouldn't  work  at  a  place  like  that,  Lizy.  I 
wouldn't  stay  there,"  put  in  Anna. 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  If  everything  else  was  all 
right,  if  there  was  enough  to  eat  and  good  enough 
without  dessert,  I  wouldn't  mind,"  I  thought. 
"There  can't  be  so  much  nourishment  in  a  cream 
puff  but  that  something  else  might  make  up  for 
the  loss." 

"Oh,  it  isn't  that,"  said  Anna.  "It's  that  we 
don't  get  it.  I  wouldn't  stay  where  I  couldn't 
have  dessert  if  I  wanted  it.  I  wouldn't  stay  with 
people  like  that." 

However  cynical  Anna  might  remain  toward  the 
social  me — "I  don't  think  it  pays  to  get  interested 
in  anybody  any  more,"  she  said.  "There's  always 
something  that  comes  up  to  spoil  it  for  you" — she 
was  sometimes  not  indifferent  to  the  industrial 
me.  On  Sundays  especially  she  was  inclined  to 
help  me  with  the  fruit  dessert,  which  came  on 
Tilly's  afternoon  out. 

"It's  too  bad  for  you  not  to  get  any  time  Sunday," 
said  Anna  the  first  time  she  did  this.  "I'll  begin  on 
the  dessert  while  you're  at  the  dishes." 

Anna  had  sent  for  a  friend  to  come  for  a  visit 
that  Sunday  afternoon.  "The  madam's  away  and 
there's  company,  and  they're  sure  to  want  some 
fancy  thing  I  can't  do,"  she  said. 

They  wanted  deviled  crabs,  and  Anna's  friend 


352  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

supervised  their  preparation.  The  visitor  was 
older  than  Anna,  very  quiet  and  ladylike  in 
appearance. 

"Don't  you  think  she's  a  neat  girl?"  asked  Anna, 
fondly  admiring  her  down  the  path  after  the  good- 
by.  "She  was  upstairs  girl  in  the  house  next 
where  I  used  to  be.  I  always  liked  her." 

The  crab  meat  was  almost  mixed  when  Miss  Jean 
came  down. 

"Will  you  have  'em  fried  in  lard  or  baked?" 
asked  Anna,  who  had  but  that  minute  learned  of  the 
two  methods. 

"Why — I  don't  know — I  wonder  how  mother 
does  have  them  ?  You  don't  know,  do  you,  Anna  ? 
We  want  them  to  be  good,  of  course.  How  are  they 
the  best  ?  Well,  do  what  you  think  right,"  she  con- 
cluded, as  Anna  made  some  suggestion  about  the 
frying.  "And  do  you  want  potatoes?"  asked  Anna. 

"Why,  a  few,  perhaps,  if  you  can  do  them," 
decided  Miss  Jean. 

"I  wouldn't  have  asked  her  that;  you've  enough 
for  Sunday  night  without  fussing  with  potatoes," 
said  the  friend.  "She  wouldn't  have  thought  of 
them  if  you  had  kept  still. " 

"  I  know  it, "  said  Anna.  "  They  are  a  nuisance, 
but  I  have  to  do  'em,  now  that  I  spoke  of  'em.  She" 
[Miss  Jean]  "didn't  know  how  to  do  these  other 
things,  did  you  see?" 

"  I  saw  her  stand  there  like  a  fool  when  you  asked 
her,"  returned  the  friend.  "Did  you  expect  she 
could  tell  you  anything  ?  They  never  know  how 
their  orders  ought  to  be  done.  What's  the  use  of 
asking?" 

"Well,  they  might  know,"  said  Anna,  the  pru- 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  353 

dent;  "and  then  if  you  did  it  your  way  without 
asking  it  wouldn't  be  right,  likely. " 

"  I  suppose  it  is  safest,  if  you  aren't  sure  yourself 
and  don't  know  your  people, "  conceded  the  visitor. 

By  that  time  I  had  gone  down  cellar  to  take  a  peek 
at  the  grape-fruit — my  dishes  had  been  finished  in 
time  for  me  to  help  Anna  with  the  last  two  or  three. 
Then,  in  accord  with  Tilly's  most  explicit  directions, 
I  put  the  full  platter  on  the  ice.  I  should  have  left 
it  outside  on  the  top  of  the  chest,  for  the  cellar 
was  cold,  except  that,  "The  madam  is  very  particular 
about  that — have  them  right  on  the  ice,  she 
told  me." 

I  put  them  on  the  ice.  The  big  plate  slipped,  the 
fruit  tipped,  and  spilled  more  or  less  of  the  sugary, 
sherry-laden  juice.  I  carried  the  ruin  to  Anna. 

"Oh,  Lizy,  that's  too  bad;  those  things  are 
expensive !  But  you  can't  help  it  now — put  in 
more  sherry  and  sugar  and  take  'em  back ;  and  be 
careful  now." 

I  meant  to  be  careful.  I  fixed  the  plate  in  the 
other  chest,  securely  as  I  thought,  so  that  when  I 
saw  it  tipped  a  second  time  I  could  hardly  believe 
my  eyes. 

"Oh,  Lizy,"  groaned  Anna,  "and  with  them 
things  so  expensive !  You  can't  always  do  just  as 
they  tell  you;  you  must  use  youc  own  judgment." 

"  Yes,  do  as  you  think  best, "  repeated  her  friend. 
"They  don't  always  know  how  things  are;  they 
can't." 

I  was  chagrined  enough,  and  registered  a  solemn 
vow  to  take  that  advice. 

These  little  episodes  were  weeks  past  at 
Christmas  time.  There  had  been  some  strain  on 


354  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

flesh  and  disposition  since  then,  and  a  general 
change  of  mood.  I  considered  this  change  and 
thought  it  likely  to  be  full  as  pleasant  for  everybody 
— self  excepted — if  I  did  not  leave  the  family  to  get 
along  one  day  without  me. 

I  announced  my  final  going  to  Tilly.  She  was 
slow  to  take  my  meaning. 

"I'm  going  away,  Tilly;  I'm  going  to  leave  for 
good." 

"  No  !  Are  you  ?  What's  the  matter  ? "  came  all 
in  one  breath. 

"  Nothing's  the  matter  except  I've  decided  not  to 
live  out  any  more.  I'm  going  home,  I  guess." 

"Truly?  Well,  that's  nice  for  you,  but  too  bad 
for  us  when  we've  just  got  used  to  you.  We'll  miss 
our  Lizy. " 

"Oh,  you'll  soon  have  another,  and  one  you'll 
like  better,"  said  I.  Thus  I  would  have  com- 
forted.her. 

"  Maybe  so,  but  it'll  be  a  nuisance  to  get  used  to  a 
new  one, "  she  returned  innocently. 

In  a  few  minutes  Anna  came  downstairs.    ' '  What's 
this  I  hear  from  Tilly  about  your  leaving?"  she 
asked,  coming  in  to  me  with  her  face  all  agrin. 
"  You  aren't  goin',  really  ?     You're  just  kiddin'. " 
i      "  No,  I  am  going,  really, "  I  said. 

"Oh,  say  !     Have  you  told  the  madam  ?  " 

I  nodded. 

"When?" 

"  'Bout  a  week  ago." 

Anna  gave  me  a  reproving  shove.  "And  you 
never  said  a  word  of  it  to  me,  you  close  girl,  you  ! " 

I  opened  my  eyes  in  mock  astonishment. 
"  Good  land  !  I  didn't  suppose  you'd  care. " 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  355 

"  Lizy,  you  know  I'd  want  to  know  it.  If  it 
had  been  me,  I'd  'a'  told  you  as  soon  as  I  made 
up  my  mind." 

"Yes,  a  lot  you  would,"  I  retorted.  "You'd 
'a'  told  Tilly,  maybe,  after  you'd  got  her  in  there" 
[mess-room]  "with  the  door  shut." 

Tilly  grinned,  being  flattered,  while  Anna  pro- 
tested that  she  wouldn't  for  the  world  intentionally 
hurt  the  feelings  of  any  girl.  Of  course  she  wouldn't. 
She  need  not  have  been  so  alarmed  lest  I  be  leaving 
from  pique  at  something  she  had  said  or  done ;  nor 
so  relieved  when  I  answered  her  question  in  the 
negative.  My  feelings  were  in  a  satisfactory  state 
and  improving  all  the  time. 

Anna  groaned.  "Now  there'll  be  the  fuss  of 
another  new  one.  I  hope  the  madam  gets  a  nice 
man  quick.  When  are  you  goin',  Lizy?" 

"When  she  gets  another — that  is,  if  she  isn't  too 
long  in  getting." 

But  it  was  a  bad  time,  so  soon  after  the  holidays. 
Mrs.  Hollis  advertised,  and  both  she  and  Miss 
Caroline  visited  the  offices,  but  not  an  available 
successor  was  to  be  had. 

"  It's  too  soon  after  Christmas ;  they  aren't  leaving 
their  places,"  said  the  madam.  "Don't  you  know 
of  some  one?" 

I  wished  I  did. 

It  was  as  Tilly  said.  I  had  no  more  than  found 
my  place  among  them,  or  they  had  just  made  up 
their  minds  to  accept  me,  when  I  had  to  go.  Had 
I  been  able  to  walk  on  my  feet  I  would  have  stayed 
until  a  successor  was  found,  if  I  had  stayed  until 
March.  I  would  have  liked  to  know  Anna  better, 


356  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

and  to  watch  the  sympathetic  attachment  a  deux 
to  dissolution.  I  would  have  attained  greater 
proficiency  in  my  work  and  a  bigger  cash 
balance;  I  would  have  watched  the  sys- 
tematic reforms  which  I  suspected  the  madam 
of  plotting  for  all  three  of  us.  Yet,  with  freedom 
so  near  one  must  have  been  more  than  human 
if  she  were  not  impatient  to  shake  off  her  fetters. 
I  had  planned  to  be  gone  on  the  last  day  of  the  old 
year.  I  stayed  six  days  in  January.  "I  cannot 
stay  any  longer,  Mrs.  Hollis;  I  must  go,"  I  said. 

"We  haven't  found  anybody  yet,"  she  reminded 
me.  "It  is  a  bad  time." 

But  Mrs.  Hollis  was  not  dependent  on  me. 

Timothy  and  I  met  in  the  cellar  that  last  morning. 
"You  ain't  goin'  away  this  mornin',  are  you,  Lizy  ?" 

One  true  mourner  within  my  set  there  was  at 
least.  Timothy,  I  think,  was  preparing  to  miss  me. 

"Why,  you  ain't  been  here  only  since  Thanks- 
giving and  now  you  go  away  again  right  after 
Christmas.  If  I  was  the  madam  I  wouldn't  pay 
yo'." 

"  I  know,  Timothy,  it  does  look  black  for  me,  but 
I  can't  stay  any  longer." 

Anna,  too,  wished  me  well.  "If  it  was  me  that 
was  goin'  to-day  I'd  not  be  sorry,  I'm  that  tired. 
But  it'll  be  my  turn  after  a  bit." 

"I'm  glad  I'm  through  working,  of  course;  but 
this  is  as  easy  a  place  as  I've  found,  Anna.  If  I  was 
going  to  work  right  along  I'd  want  to  stay  here." 
We  shook  hands  and  I  left  her  with  a  good  luck  and 
one  less  bed  to  make. 

I  tried  to  do  the  polite  thing  by  Tilly,  too,  but  she 
said  I  was  a  "funny  person."  So  I  went  in  to  take 


FOR  SEVEN  IN  A  SUBURB  357 

leave  of  the  madam  and  departed,  leaving  several 
aprons  and  a  dress  or  two  hanging  on  the  line  in  the 
laundry  for  sweet  memory's  sake.  They  were  clean 
for  once,  at  any  rate,  for  I  had  washed  them  but  the 
evening  before. 

What  a  funny  time  it  had  all  been  ! 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AFTERTHOUGHT 

I  DO  not  work  in  the  house  of  the  stranger  woman 
any  more ;  but  it  may  be  that,  having  once  done  so, 
I  am  still  "a  living-out  girl."  Be  it  so. 

I  remember  the  passing  of  Eliza  as  a  time  of  hon- 
ourable toil,  though  I  cannot  feel  in  it  very  much 
of  professional  pride;  the  failures  from  stupidity, 
ignorance  and  physical  inadequacy  were  too  many. 
The  blackening  of  the  Barry  range  was  but  one  of  the 
many  things  I  wanted  to  do  and  did  not  do.  Other 
things,  like  the  washing  out  of  the  ice-chest,  I  left 
undone  for  a  longer  season  than  was  desirable, 
merely  because  the  need  did  not  occur  to  me. 
Mr.  Scharff  did  not  enjoy  the  mackerel  which  his 
loving  spouse  had  provided  for  his  Sunday  morning 
breakfast  because  I  insisted  upon  waiting  until  he 
rang  for  it,  as  was  the  way  with  the  women  folk. 
Instead  of  ringing  after  he  had  eaten  his  cereal, 
Mr.  Scharff  got  up  and  went  off,  supposing  he  had 
reached  the  end  of  the  menu.  I  had  been  with  the 
family  long  enough  to  have  noted  this  difference  of 
habit,  even  if  Frieda  had  not  jabbered  so  earnestly 
about  it.  I  confess  to  some  density.  But  Mrs. 
Scharff 's  recital  of  the  anecdote  in  my  presence 
to  a  tableful  of  guests  did  not  endear  her  to  me. 
And  lastly,  I  forgot.  I  did  not  always  remember 

359 


360  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

from  the  first  telling  everything  that  was  or  was  not 
expected  of  me. 

Those  experiences  are  now  remote  enough  for  a 
rational  perspective.  The  stress  and  strain  of  them, 
the  hurry  and  worry,  the  dread  and  the  anger,  then 
so  real  and  so  wearing,  are  but  pale  memories. 
Wherefore  I  am  enabled  to  give  the  honest  opinion 
that  Mrs.  Scharffs  tempestuous  outbreaks  were  not 
so  much  a  matter  of  disposition,  or  "nerves,"  as 
of  theory. 

Mrs.  Scharff  had  wanted  to  go  traveling  to  New 
York  every  few  minutes ;  she  had  wanted  her  house 
in  order  for  the  most  impressive  reception  of  Miss 
Emilie's  friend,  and  she  had  not  dared  trust  me  to 
work  with  a  woman  from  outside  in  her  absence. 
She  had  covered  the  whole  ground  of  her  desire  by 
crowding  the  new  chambermaid  as  fast  and  as  far 
as  she  would  go  without  openly  rebelling,  and  that 
under  bearing  and  language  of  high  excitement, 
and  in  the  knowledge  that  she  was  demanding  too 
much. 

That  this  was  Mrs.  Scharff' s  case  I  have  her  own 
undesigned  testimony.  Women  should  learn  not 
to  talk  about  other  women  who  are  at  work  just 
beyond  an  open  door,  even  in  low  tones.  The 
attention  of  the  worker  may  be  unaccountably 
arrested  and  her  Bearing  acute  beyond  expec- 
tation. 

"  I've  talked  rather  hard  to  her — harder  than  was 
necessary,  harder  than  I  wish  I  had,"  Mrs.  Scharff 
had  admitted. 

" Why?"  Mrs.  Rauston  had  asked. 

"Because — you  can  get  more  work  out  of  'em 
that  way." 


AFTERTHOUGHT  361 

"  But  wasn't  it  too  much  to  expect — all  the  clean- 
ing in  ten  days?" 

"They  got  through  with  it,"  Mrs.  Scharff  had  said, 
with  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders. 

"They?     Oh,  the  cook  helped?" 

"Some,  yes;  but  the  other  one  did  most  of  it." 

"But  wasn't  it  too  much  for  the  girl?"  Mrs. 
Rauston  had  persisted. 

"Well,  yes;  perhaps  it  might  have  been,  in  this 
case ;  I  don't  think  it  would  have  been  for  an  older 
and  larger  girl." 

The  visiting  sister  disapproved  openly. 

"Oh,  I  shouldn't  try  it  again,  I  shouldn't  dare," 
Mrs.  Scharff  had  admitted.  "I  don't  believe  it 
would  work  again,  anyway.  I  didn't  hear  a  word 
said  in  objection,  but  there  were  signs — 

"But  do  you  think  it  pays  to  do  that  way," 
urged  the  sister,  who  had  already  said  she  thought 
it  was  not  right. 

"I  shan't  think  so  if  it  is  going  to  lose  me  the 
girl,  but  I  don't  think  it  will.  I  think  I  can  find  a 
way  to  keep  her  right  along,  now  that  she  has 
stayed  through  so  much." 

That  notion  that  a  housemaid  must  be  every 
minute  at  work  is  such  shortsighted  business  policy  ! 
If  housework  be  ranked  among  the  trades,  as  skilled 
labour,  as  it  should  be,  enforcement  of  such  a  rule 
must  influence  to  deceit,  dawdling  rather  than 
thoroughness,  lack  of  ambition  or  desire  to  improve, 
and  the  widening  of  that  deplored  and  deplorable 
"chasm  between  mistresses  and  maids."  If  house- 
work be  ranked  as  labour,  unskilled,  as  it  should 
not  be,  there  is  no  gain  in  total  quantity  of  work 
done,  the  severe  and  needless  strain  upon  the  work- 


362  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

er's  strength  cannot  be  other  than  detrimental  to 
her  health  and  temper,  and  the  reaction  is  not 
likely  to  be  in  the  employer's  favour. 

For  just  how  large  a  proportion  of  their  domestic 
troubles  the  saner  women  are  in  debt  to  the  unrea- 
sonable housekeepers  nobody  can  tell,  but  one  is 
free  to  suppose  that  it  is  no  inconsiderable  one ;  as 
a  girl  cannot  fully  shake  off  the  influence  of  her  last 
place,  just  so  surely  does  she  go  to  her  next,  perverted 
or  improved  according  to  that  last  place  and  the 
time  she  was  there.  Decent,  self-respecting  workers 
prefer  decent,  self-respecting  employers.  Where- 
fore, for  the  greatest  good  to  the  greatest  number, 
a  scab  list  of  the  impossible  employers  and  the 
boycotting  of  the  same  would  seem  a  wise  provision. 

But  the  domestic  problem  I  perceive  to  be  not 
entirely  one  of  personality,  else  I  had  not  been  dis- 
satisfied to  stay  with  Mrs.  Wakefield,  or  else  I 
would  even  now  hold  to  the  idea  of  going  back 
to  the  Wetherlys',  or  else  I  had  not  refused  to 
consider  other  domestic  openings  offered  in  plenty. 

I  do  not  regret  the  past  year.  I  do  not  think  of 
it  as  a  time  of  unusual  hardship  even.  The  experi- 
ence brought  me  better  health,  greater  strength. 
In  place  of  a  strong  distaste  I  gained  something  of 
interest  and  liking  for  domestic  tasks.  The  other 
workers  with  whom  I  was  associated  proved  a  source 
of  interest  and  enjoyment,  not  to  say  comfort  and 
wisdom.  Had  I  worked  at  my  first  and  poorest 
paid  place  as  many  consecutive  weeks  as  I  worked 
at  all  five  together  I  should  have  had  more  money 
to  my  account  by  thirteen  dollars  than  my 
best  efforts  could  save  from  salary  payments 
amounting  to  twelve  hundred  dollars.  Life  in 


AFTERTHOUGHT  363 

one  kitchen,  at  least,  turned  out  to  be  more 
attractive,  more  congenial,  than  any  one  of 
four  boarding  places  I  have  had.  Between  three 
of  the  women  whom  I  served  and  myself  no  shadow 
of  unpleasantness  ever  fell.  They  were  sufficiently 
kind,  and  when  I  left  each  it  was  with  more  or  less 
of  sincere  regret.  I  thoroughly  believe  in  and  per- 
sonally enjoy  manual  labour.  I  like  to  do  things 
with  my  hands. 

Yet  I  would  not  at  all  like  the  idea  of  settling 
down  to  that  life  of  domestic  labour  for  any  length 
of  time.  The  prospects  for  the  worker  are  too 
dreary ;  the  attractions  are  too  few  and  too  sordid. 
In  short,  as  I  observed  to  Mrs.  ScharfT,  the  conditions 
of  domestic  employ  are  not  to  my  liking.  She  said, 
"Yes,  I.  know  what  you  mean,"  and  she  thought  of 
spots  on  the  kitchen  table-cloth,  and  rooming  with 
Frieda.  Those  were  trifles.  That  which  must  gall 
upon  a  free  spirit  is  no  trifle.  Not  that  a  few  brief 
trials  can  properly  warrant  or  convince  to  generaliza- 
tions ;  but  those  trials  have  become  a  part  of  one 
life  experience,  and  make  most  naturally  one  point 
of  view. 

And  my  employers,  though  only  five,  and  all  of 
the  respectable  middle  class,  have  shown  such 
differences  in  standard,  breeding  and  aspiration  as 
seem  to  me  typical,  saving  the  second  and  fourth, 
who  appear  rather  as  degrees  of  the  same  type.  Of 
the  very  first  families  who  have  been  going  to  Society 
for  generations,  with  the  family  jewels  in  their  hair 
and  the  family  traditions  in  their  manners,  I  have 
no  ken.  Do  these  clamour  from  the  housetop  of 
their  impotence  before  "those  miserable,  unreliable, 
lazy,  incapable,  ungrateful  wretches  we  cannot  get 


364  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

along  without?"     [I  trust  the  adjectives  are  accu- 
rately disposed  for  the  quotation's  sake.] 

Working  always  among  those  who  have  so  pro- 
claimed, I  seem  to  have  been  fortunate  in  my 
escapes.  I  did  not  meet  the  woman  who  required 
her  single  maid  for  her  family  of  five  (two  being 
children  of  the  white-ruffled  variety)  to  have  the 
basket  of  clean  clothes  upstairs  by  Tuesday  noon — 
a  requirement  which  the  maid  could  meet  only  by 
ironing  until  midnight  the  day  before,  and  some- 
times later.  I  did  not  meet  the  woman  who  allowed 
her  maid  but  one  afternoon  a  month,  that  beginning 
not  earlier  than  four  o'clock  if  she  could  help  it. 
Nor  the  woman  who  returned  from  church  Sunday 
morning  to  a  summary  dismissal  of  her  maid,  the 
maid  having  refused  to  clean  in  her  employer's 
absence  the  windows  she  had  been  unable  to  clean 
the  day  before  without  risk  to  the  three  small 
children  especially  left  to  her  care.  Had  the  maid 
been  intimidated  by  threats  of  forcible  ejection, 
had  there  been  no  law  to  protect  her,  she  would 
have  left  the  house  within  a  half  hour  without  the 
wages  due.  Neither  did  I  meet  the  woman  who 
dismissed  her  maid  because,  having  mounted  two 
flights  of  stairs  for  some  direction  needed  in  her 
work,  the  girl  sank,  weak  and  sick,  into  a  chair  by 
the  door,  but  in  the  presence  of  that  woman,  her 
employer.  Nor  the  woman  who,  having  ordered 
the  baking  of  much  bread  and  pastry  from  her 
single  new  maid — who  happened  to  be  a  mature 
woman  of  experience  and  skill — promptly  dismissed 
that  maid  in  the  midst  of  her  operations  for  incom- 
petence ;  because,  having  some  things  already  in  the 
oven  and  others  in  process  of  mixing,  the  woman 


AFTERTHOUGHT  365 

could  not  go  upstairs  to  hang  curtains  and  still 
answer  for  her  culinary  success.  I  missed  also  the 
economical  women.  One  of  whom,  in  ordering, 
figured  the  quantity  of  table  provision  so  closely 
that  it  was  only  when  one  of  the  family  refused 
something  that  there  was  anything  left  for  the 
girl  in  the  kitchen,  only  one  bill  of  fare  being  pro- 
vided for  the  house.  The  other  economical  woman 
always  kept  everything  under  lock,  of  which  she 
carried  the  key,  doling  out  the  exact  amount  of  each 
article  for  every  occasion.  Going  away  one  morning 
after  breakfast,  and  being  unexpectedly  detained 
until  10  P.  M.,  her  maid  at  home  was  left  to  sustain 
herself  meanwhile  on  a  few  pieces  of  dry  bread. 
The  woman's  return  was  the  signal  for  the  prepara- 
tion of  a  hearty  meal ;  but  to  appreciate  the  maid's 
situation  one  should  try  the  experiment,  being 
sure  to  fill  in  a  long  morning  with  sweeping,  washing 
floors,  cleaning  windows,  making  beds,  and  the 
like. 

A  personal  acquaintance  with  these  women,  all 
resident  near  the  city  of  my  career,  was  indeed 
spared  me;  but  the  doings  imputed  to  them  are 
every  one  true,  being  known  of  and  vouched  for  by 
personal  friends  of  trustworthy  veracity,  and  not  of 
the  living-out  class.  Were  it  otherwise,  had  I  found 
my  own  second  and  fourth  employers  of  a  different 
temper,  these  stories  must  have  seemed  beyond 
belief.  By  no  manner  of  means,  however,  can  I 
make  the  incidents  fit  to  my  idea  of  gracious  lady- 
hood, though  the  seven  of  whom  they  were  told  were 
accounted  within  that  estate.  It  was  observed,  too, 
that  the  seven  were  loud  and  continuous  in  com- 
plaint against  the  obtainable  help,  zealous  in  adver- 


366  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

tising  their  own  reasonable  kindness  and  the  easy 
lot  of  a  maid  in  their  household. 

By  my  experience  and  observation  there  would 
seem  to  be  a  fixed  ratio  between  the  complacency 
of  a  woman's  speech  on  this  matter,  the  severity  of 
her  criticism  upon  the  workers,  her  own  outrageous 
management,  and  her  incapacity  to  direct  an  under- 
worker.  The  "  Housekeeper's  Problem"  is  a  better 
name  for  the  housekeeper's  difficulty,  since  the 
housekeepers  contribute  so  largely  to  its  bitter- 
ness. And  the  housekeeper's  problem  would  seem 
at  the  last  analysis  to  have  resolved  itself  into  the 
problem  of  self-government. 

Yet  there  remains  "the  servant  girl  problem," 
so-called.  With  this  domestic  or  household  problem 
come  perplexities  more  dignified,  as  is  fitting.  Per- 
plexities real  and  puzzling,  of  which  five  occur  to 
mind:  (i)  The  social  stigma,  (2)  Long  and  indefi- 
nite hours  of  labour,  (3)  The  lack  of  variety  which 
would  not  be  but  for,  (4)  Lack  of  opportunity 
for  a  distinct  home  or  social  life,  (5)  The  lack  of 
incentive  from  without,  or  reward,  in  some  degree 
dependent  upon  the  lack  of  opportunity  for  regular 
business  promotion. 

Generally,  the  long  hours  rather  than  the  heavi- 
ness of  the  individual  tasks  make  the  strain  of  living 
out  too  severe.  The  average  length  of  my  own 
working  day  was  fifteen  hours.  My  rest  day, 
robbed  of  half  its  value  by  the  division,  averaged 
twelve  hours;  a  loss  of  three  hours  to  the  seventh 
day.  Like  the  proverbial  half  loaf,  it  was  better 
than  nothing  in  the  face  of  starvation,  yet  aggravat- 
ingly  near  to  nothing.  Many  mothers  do  not  get 
even  so  much  free  time,  somebody  has  observed ;  a 


AFTERTHOUGHT  367 

true  enough  observation,  but  why  make  it  in  this 
connection  ?  Do  not  circumstances  alter  cases,  and 
is  not  the  difference  of  compensation  all  the  differ- 
ence in  the  world?  A  mother  has  a  proprietary 
interest,  and  works  for  love,  at  her  own  will  and 
sense  of  duty  (or  ought  to) .  Can  a  passing  stranger 
know  such  impulse  for  three  and  a  half  dollars  per 
week? 

If  there  were  an  ulterior  motive,  a  hope  of  material 
reward,  a  chance  of  promotion !  The  esteem  of 
one's  old  employers  is  pleasant  to  think  of,  but  it 
does  not  draw  interest  in  the  bank  or  properly  satisfy 
one's  higher  aspiration.  The  pastures  of  domestic 
work  offer  pretty  poor  feeding  for  ambition,  it 
must  be  acknowledged.  To  be  a  good  and  con- 
tented worker  one  needs  a  bunch  of  hay  ever  before 
his  nose — unless  he  may  have  enjoyed  to  his  profit  a 
higher  moral  teaching  than  some  have.  In  domestic 
work  this  need  is  ill  provided  for. 

"A  nice  girl,"  who  is  quick  and  handy,  may 
start  at  general  housework  on  full  wage  and 
inexperience.  What  she  doesn't  know  in  the 
beginning  her  employer  will  teach  her,  if  she  is 
"nice";  £and  by  a  certain  time  she  is  com- 
petent for  the  place.  Her  work  is  a  familiar 
routine  and  her  wage  no  larger  than  at  first, 
unless  it  should  have  been  raised  fifty  cents  or  a 
dollar  to  keep  her  from  going  elsewhere.  That 
she  began  on  full  pay  is  nothing — everybody 
begins  that  way.  The  girl  has  gone  as  far  as 
she  can  go  in  that  house,  and,  so  far  as  concerns 
her  own  progress,  what  time  she  stays  after  that 
point  is  reached  is  lost  to  her. 

In  the  bigger  houses  one  may  begin  to  specialize 


368  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

and  for  more  money.  There,  too,  one  may  be 
offered  the  position  of  traveling  companion  and 
lady's  maid,  perhaps;  only  how  can  anybody  care 
for  such  work  as  personal  waiting  upon  an  able- 
bodied  adult  who  ought  to  wait  upon  herself. 
Many  other  helps  may  come  to  a  girl  through  per- 
sonal interest  which  are  not  in  the  way  of  regular 
business  promotion.  Mrs.  Hollis  suggested  upstairs 
work  and  sewing,  as  work  better  suited  and  perhaps 
more  agreeable.  The  wage  was  no  more,  and  never 
would  be,  and  that  was  the  best  she  could  ever  do 
for  me  in  her  house.  From  the  Wetherlys',  had 
luck  favoured,  I  could  have  served  as  under-cook 
in  the  kitchen  of  a  very  first  family,  and  then- 
genius  my  only  limit,  and  luck  the  only  arbiter  of 
my  fortunes.  I  cannot  tell  how  great  the  demand 
for  expensive  and  master  cooks  may  be.  Perhaps 
the  mere  fact  of  working  in  such  aristocratic  quarters 
—though  only  as  under-cook — would  have  shed  a 
glorious  contentment  in  my  soul.  Anna  liked  to 
remember  that  she  had  lived  on  Spruce  Street. 

Plainly,  except  in  hotel  work,  which,  in  the 
expectation  of  tips,  is  said  to  be  rather  poorly  paid, 
the  ambitious  and  able  domestic  worker  must 
literally  promote  herself.  It  is  not  difficult,  but 
it  is  hard  on  the  people  of  moderate  incomes. 
The  great  houses  and  the  long  purses  are  the 
goal  of  the  ambitious  housework  girl.  By  the 
time  she  reaches  it  she  has  had  time  to  become 
well-nigh  perfect  in  her  chosen  specialty;  and 
we  infer  that  she  has  done  so,  or  she  wouldn't 
be  there.  Perhaps,  in  fact,  she  generally  isn't 
there,  having  preferred  to  marry  the  coachman 
midway  in  her  career.  But  the  big  houses  offer  the 


AFTERTHOUGHT  369 

best  in  wages,  accommodations,  gifts  and  other 
perquisites,  so  nothing  remains  to  be  striven  for. 
The  many  associate  workers  make  lighter  work  and 
shorter  hours,  as  they  save  from  monotony  and 
loneliness. 

But  we  are  not  all  ambitious.  A  comfortable 
living  suffices  for  some,  and  the  prospect  of  so 
many  changes  does  not  attract  a  young  woman  just 
starting  out  to  earn  her  way,  though  she  should  see 
in  them  the  path  of  a  comparatively  small  oppor- 
tunity. More  likely  at  first  she  would  see  no  oppor- 
tunity at  all,  and  the  ability  to  save  her  wage  almost 
entire  would  hardly  atone  for  the  home  or  social  life 
from  which  she  is  shut  out.  That  home  sometimes 
offered  by  the  employer  is  likely  to  prove  a  shelter 
and  feeding  place  merely — so  different  are  the  con- 
structions put  upon  the  word  "home." 

The  Wetherly  sisters  were  able  to  modify  my 
solitary  condition  very  appreciably.  Mrs.  Kinder- 
lieber  also  seemed  to  have  some  such  idea  at  times, 
but  her  attempt  was  most  dismally  unsuccessful. 
The  personal  equation  turned  the  one  effort  to  a 
partial  success,  the  other  to  a  total  failure,  and  com- 
paratively few  housewives  can  wisely  try  such  a 
plan,  even.  "I  can't  take  a  girl  into  my  family," 
declared  Mrs.  Hollis. 

The  more  just  way  and  the  more  agreeable — 
judging  others  by  myself — would  be  the  arrange- 
ment by  which  one  might  enjoy  a  family  or  social 
life  of  her  own  kind  and  choosing.  If  the  living-out 
girl  did  not  live  out ;  if  she  arrived  every  morning  and 
left  very  evening,  as  do  so  many  who  are  employed 
in  apartments,  as  is  so  often  required  of  negro  help, 
this  might  be.  It  would  necessitate  arrangement 


370  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

and  rearrangement,  of  course,  but,  save  in  excep- 
tional cases,  remote  country  houses  and  the  like, 
none  that  might  not  be  made  with  advantage  to 
both  parties. 

One  would  need  to  be  prompt  at  meals,  then,  of 
course — a  great  hygienic  gain.  Besides,  a  dinner 
ordered  at  half -past  six  is  a  business  engagement 
with  the  cook,  and  should  be  honoured  as  such. 
The  boy,  that  most  difficult  of  animals  to  arouse  in 
the  morning  (also  the  girl),  might  learn  to  meet 
dining-room  appointments  as  promptly  as  those  of 
the  schoolroom  and  baseball  field  are  met.  Even 
the  golf -player,  if  it  were  the  custom,  would  as  a 
matter  of  course  arrange  either  to  be  in  time  for  the 
family  meal  or  to  provide  for  himself ;  and  he  ought, 
anyway,  in  all  decency,  to  wipe  his  muddy  shoes 
before  he  enters  the  house,  and  learn  to  eat  a  stand-up 
lunch  without  scattering  crumbs  all  over  the  pantry 
floor.  In  some  households  the  extras  due  to  sheer 
thoughtlessness  fill  several  hours  a  week — as  purely 
a  waste  of  labour,  and  therefore  of  time,  as  the 
open-mouthed  listening  to  ghost  stories  or  over-trie- 
fence  conversations  during  working  hours  are  held 
to  be.  With  care  for  the  time  leakage,  a  day  of  ten 
hours  ought  to  suffice  for  the  work  of  a  house,  with 
special  arrangements  for  special  occasions.  A  cham- 
bermaid, finishing  earlier  in  the  afternoon,  might  be 
the  first  to  arrive  in  the  morning,  to  open  the  house 
and  start  the  fire;  the  cook  and  waitress  staying 
later  at  night,  would  arrive  later  in  the  morning. 
If  an  unusually  early  breakfast  should  be  desired, 
sir  or  madam  should  be  equal  to  the  boiling  of  an 
egg  and  the  making  of  coffee.  The  ''undressing" 
of  one's  bed  and  the  tending  of  one's  own  doorbell 


AFTERTHOUGHT  371 

after  a  certain  hour  in  the  evening  ought  not  to  be 
very  burdensome,  and  the  moral  and  physical 
benefit  of  even  so  much  active,  useful  effort  might 
be  considerable.  If  a  certain  class  of  women  had 
done  more  of  their  own  housework  they  would 
know  fewer  disorders,  nervous  and  otherwise. 
Several  physicians  agree  with  Mrs.  Scharff  in  this: 
"  I  would  be  better  to-day,  Eliza,  if  I  did  more  of  my 
own  housework."  I  believed  her,  though  physically 
Mrs.  Scharff  appeared  robust  and  vigorous. 

And  the  girl  who  worked  ?  She  would  receive  in 
money  the  fair  equivalent  of  her  living  and  provide 
for  herself,  save  perhaps  the  midday  dinner  or 
hearty  lunch ;  and  live  with  her  own  family,  or  with 
nearby  friends,  or  colonize  with  other  girls,  as  do 
the  office-workers  and  professional  women,  though 
on  a  cheaper  scale.  And  some  capitalist,  looking 
for  a  good  money  investment,  might  build  them 
model  apartment  houses  like  those  of  Greater  New 
York. 

But  the  domestic  worker  is  already  ''better  cared 
for  than  any  other  class  of  working  women." 
Exactly.  She  is  too  completely  cared  for ;  she  should 
be  caring  for  herself.  Not  that  she  knows  this. 
It  may  be  that  more  than  half  those  now  living  out 
would  meet  such  a  change  as  reluctantly  as  their 
employers.  They  are  accustomed  to  the  old  way. 
But  the  new  way  is  coming,  and  its  coming  will  be 
the  dawning  of  the  housekeeper's  golden  age.  Non- 
resident household  labour  may  never  be  universal, 
of  course,  but  it  is  bound  to  be  general.  With  this 
situation  and  the  lifting  of  the  social  stigma  from 
domestic  workers  as  a  class,  the  housekeeping  world 
will  begin  to  count  recruits  from  women  whose  tastes 


372  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

and  fitness  for  domestic  concerns  cannot  in  this 
generation  keep  them  from  overcrowding  the  ranks 
of  schoolteachers,  typewriters,  book-keepers,  clerks 
and  operators  of  all  sorts ;  the  very  sort  of  helpers, 
in  fact,  that  housekeepers  seem  to  be  pining  for 
will  be  at  hand. 

There  is  little  danger  that  such  an  enlightened 
state  will  burst  too  suddenly  over  our  land.  Has 
it  not  been  said  that  the  class  prejudice  is  more 
deeply  rooted  than  the  race  prejudice?  An  indus- 
trial change  which  involves  the  overcoming  of  a 
class  prejudice  may  be  depended  upon  to  progress 
with  extreme  moderation. 

Already,  to  be  sure,  the  professional  toilers  and 
the  commercial  devotees,  accepting  each  other  with 
the  courtesy  of  mutual  tolerance,  care  not  for 
"Society's"  shrug  at  the  self-supporting.  They 
meet  under  their  own  standard,  which  proclaims 
reverence  for  ability  and  accomplishment,  respect 
for  those  who  live  by  the  exercise  of  their  God- 
given  powers,  be  it  ever  so  humble.  Lineage  is  but 
an  accident,  heirlooms  and  legacies  a  caprice  of 
fortune ;  all  men  are  brothers,  rank  is  by  individual 
worth,  and  work  a  high  privilege.  It  is  the  personal 
creed  of  thinking  democracy. 

But  let  somebody,  a  relative  for  instance,  choose 
to  live  by  the  labour  of  his  God-given  hands,  and 
behold  it  is  a  time  for  nice  distinction.  Creed  seems 
to  be  at  variance  with  prejudice  and  the  weaker. 
Hand  toil,  when  it  becomes  a  fact  in  the  family,  is 
so  much  less  respectable  than  brain  toil ;  and  socially 
the  hand  worker  bears  the  burden  of  inferiority 
which  comes  to  him  as  soon  as  his  occupation 
becomes  known.  Still,  one  may  sew  dresses  and 


AFTERTHOUGHT  373 

trim  hats  in  a  shop  all  day  for  odd  dollars  a  week, 
and  keep  her  place  as  one  of  the  people.  Or,  in  one's 
own  home,  one  may  cook,  make  beds,  sweep  and 
dust,  or  wash  or  iron,  and  be  queer  or  unfortunate 
according  as  the  motive  be  of  choice  or  necessity. 
And  the  same  one,  taking  up  her  abode  in  the  home 
of  another,  and  doing  there  for  wages  the  same 
necessary  work  she  has  been  accustomed  to  do  for 
herself,  becomes  as  one  of  a  lower  order :  a  menial, 
a  social  outcast.  The  tie  of  kindred  still  holds,  but 
all  is  not  as  it  was.  The  family  are  ashamed,  they 
apologize,  they  excuse,  or  they  avoid  the  subject. 

The  consistent  are  the  rarely  democratic  thinkers 
to  whom  it  is  a  life  axiom,  vital  and  fundamental, 
what  the  rest  struggle  to  demonstrate  with  much 
talk  about  "  the  brotherhood  of  man  "  ;  that  we  all — 
cooks,  schoolteachers,  and  society  butterflies,  are 
exactly  the  same  kind  of  people.  We  all  have  eyes 
with  which  we  see,  ears  with  which  we  hear,  and 
affections  with  which  we  love  and  hate.  Our  virtues 
are  the  same,  our  vanities  and  our  sins  also;  and 
there  is  no  difference  at  all  save  the  veneer  from 
an  accidental  environment,  too  thin  at  best. 

Madam  X bows    down    to   a    fashion     plate 

and  the  say-so  of  her  set;  the  maid  in  the 
next  house  spends  the  wages  of  months  for  a 
silk  dress,  "so's  to  be  somebody  for  once." 
Madam  Y—  -  was  often  unable  to  see  callers  in 
the  afternoon ;  the  cook  around  the  corner  was  also 

overfond  of  stimulating  beverages.    Madam  Z 

makes  change  with  the  aid  of  a  small  loan  from  her 
chambermaid,  which  she  forgets  to  pay;  a  neigh- 
bour's chambermaid  borrows  a  few  potatoes  for  the 
feeding  of  her  indigent  nephews,  for  which  she  also 


374  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

forgets  to  pay.  Mrs.  A—  -'s  last  "girl"  had  a 
ferocious  temper — the  same  could  truthfully 
be  said  about  others  in  a  higher  station — and 
a  too  vigorous  vocabulary;  that  fault  also  is 
not  uncommon.  The  younger  Miss  Wetherly  would 
not  go  to  school  in  her  youth;  both  Anna 
and  Gretchen  yearn  to  know  and  to  be,  and 
Anna  buys  text-books,  which  she  reads  to  that 
end.  Mrs.  Hollis  was  most  generous  and  kindly ;  so 
was  Frieda.  And  so  on,  until  there  are  no  more 
people,  for  they  are  of  the  same  sort  exactly. 

But  why  emphasize  a  point  so  obvious  ?  Because 
apparently  it  is  like  some  other  things — too  obvious 
to  be  evident.  Instance  the  following  dialogue 
between  a  Vassar  woman  and  her  brilliant  and 
otherwise  charming  associate  teacher  in  a  city  high 
school. 

"Who  was  your  friend  at  the  lecture?  Quite 
attractive,  I  thought." 

"  Miss  Foster,  a  home  friend  of  mine ;  we  grew  up 
in  the  same  little  country  village." 

"  Does  she  teach  ?     I  never  noticed  her  before. " 

"  No,  she  doesn't  teach. " 

"Is  she  an  artist  or  a  student?  What  does  she 
do?" 

"No,  she  is  not  an  artist,  and  she  is  not  studying 
anywhere.  She  works  at  Mrs.  R—  -'s. " 

"  What  does  she  do  there  ?     Is  she  a  nurse  ? " 

"  No,  she  is  a  tailoress  by  trade,  but  for  this  winter 

she  is  living  with  Mrs.  R and  doing  her 

housework." 

"Oh,  a  servant  girl !  And  you'd  go  to  a  lecture 
with  a  servant  ? ' ' 

"  I  don't  see  why  not,  since  you  choose  to  call  her 


AFTERTHOUGHT  375 

that.  I've  always  known  her,  she  was  reared  by 
the  same  standards  as  myself,  and  I  consider  that  she 
has  a  very  fine  character ;  she  is  intelligent  and  very 
well  read ;  our  tastes  are  similar,  she  is  good  looking, 
and  dresses  better  than  I  do.  I'm  sure  I  enjoyed 
listening  to  the  lecture  in  her  company — I  only  wish 
she  had  time  to  go  oftener  with  me,"  returned  the 
Vassar  woman. 

"That  may  all  be,  but  if  she  does  that  sort  of 
work  she  is  a  servant.  It's  all  right,  of  course,  if 
you  enjoy  such  associations,  but  I  wouldn't  be  seen 
outside  my  own  house  in  company  with  a  servant !" 

Aside  from  the  barbarous  lack  of  taste,  is  not  such 
a  remark  from  a  working  woman  of  sufficient 
intelligence  to  teach  academic  grades  quite  depress- 
ing ?  Of  the  four  other  teachers  in  the  group,  only 
one  sided  with  my  Vassar  friend,  and  she  lacked  the 
courage  to  do  so  openly.  But  every  one  of  them 
reads  Carlyle,  and  applauds  pretty  sentiments  upon 
the  brotherhood  of  man,  I  haven't  the  least  doubt. 

Most  of  my  own  friends,  I  am  happy  to  believe, 
could  listen  to  a  lecture  in  company  with  the  cham- 
bermaid, if  that  particular  missionary  impulse  should 
sieze  them;  but  not  without  a  haunting  sense  of 
incongruity,  perhaps.  In  general,  I  notice,  it  is 
more  convenient  to  wait  until  the  maid  has  turned 
the  corner  before  one  starts  out  of  an  afternoon. 

"Couldn't  you  walk  down  the  street  with  me?" 
I  asked. 

"Why,  yes,  Eliza,  of  course  I  could  walk  down 
the  street  with  you  same  as  with  any  one  else, "  said 
Miss  Eleanor  Wetherly,  whose  half  jest  had  given 
chance  for  the  question.  "I  could,  only  I  mustn't 
on  account  of  what  the  neighbours  would  say  if 


376  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

they  should  see  me  go  out  with  the  girl.  Our 
standards  of  respectability  appear  to  be  the  same, 
and  if  I  had  met  you  anywhere  outside,  not  knowing 
your  work,  I  should  have  been  glad  to  follow  up  the 
meeting  to  a  closer  acquaintance,  if  that  were  con- 
venient and  proved  agreeable.  But  instead  of  that 
you  come  to  work  in  my  kitchen,  so  I  can't  know 
you  outside  of  it.  It's  wrong,  and  foolish  (of  the 
neighbours,  of  society),  but  we  have  to  conform, 
or  where  are  we?  We  awake  some  fine  morning 
and  our  friends  don't  know  us  any  more. " 

"Suppose  we  had  met  and  been  friends  quite 
awhile  without  your  hearing  that  I  worked  out; 
suppose  we  just  hadn't  happened  to  speak  of  the 
matter;  then,  if  somebody  should  tell  you  the  truth, 
what  would  you  do  ?" 

"Do?  I'd  be  mad.  I  wouldn't  thank  the  person 
that  told  me.  But  that  case  never  could  happen. 
I  suppose  nothing  is  ever  said  about  it,  but  it  is 
always  an  understood  thing  that  the  lady  and  the 
girl  do  not  know  each  other  outside.  It's  in  the 
air,  maybe." 

"But  suppose  it  could  happen,  would  you  know 
me  any  more?" 

"Well — I — I'd  be  sorry,  but  you'd  be  only  a 
memory,  Eliza.  It's  too  bad." 

Yet  she  would  be  cross  at  the  one  who  carried 
the  news. 

"We  are  always  kind  and  just  to  our  girls,"  say 
other  good  people  whose  employees  leave  after 
eighteen  years,  and  then  only  to  get  married.  That 
is  well  but  irrelevant.  We  had  societies  for 
compelling  kindness  to  dumb  animals  decades  ago. 
Besides,  domestic  workers  are  not  insensible.  Kind- 


AFTERTHOUGHT  377 

ness  and  justice  have  their  reward.  The  good 
people  themselves  say  that  they  have  never  had 
a  mite  of  trouble  with  their  domestic  help. 

Then  there  is  the  zeal  of  philanthropy.  It  was 
a  bright  man  as  well  as  a  good  one  who  was 
concerned  because  his  Protestant  maid  did  not 
accept  his  invitation  to  family  prayers. 

"While  she  lives  with  us  we  want  her  to  feel  that 
our  house  is  her  home — that  is,  we  would  create 
that  atmosphere.  Devotions  are  a  family  institution 
in  which  she  could  share;  besides — we  are  sure  it 
would  be  for  her  good  to  do  so.  I  wonder  seriously 
whether  I  ought  to  insist  that  she  come  for  the  good 
of  her  soul,"  he  mused. 

The  homelike  atmosphere,  analyzed,  might  show 
the  element  of  personal  freedom  as  important  a 
component  as  any. 

A  more  aggravated  instance  of  the  same  complaint 

has  been  observed  in  Mrs.  L ,  the  employer  of 

my  friend  Mary.  Mrs.  L had  been  Mary's 

Sunday-school  teacher  before  the  girl  went  out 
to  work,  and  before  Mary  went  to  work  in 
her  house  she  had  been  quite  fond  of  Mrs. 
L . 

"I  wish  Mrs.  L—  -  wouldn't  get  me  into  her 
room  and  talk  to  me, "  she  complained  to  a  partic- 
ular friend,  in  the  family  but  not  of  it.  "I  know 
she  is  very  good  and  kind-hearted,  and  wants  to  be 
kind  and  do  things  for  me.  But  she  makes  me  feel  all 
the  time  how  ignorant  I  am,  so  I  am  afraid  to  say 
anything.  I  never  feel  comfortable  with  her,  as 
I  do  with  you.  I  guess  it's  because  she's  got  so 
much  education."  Poor  Mary  sighed. 

Mary,  being  unable  to  express  herself  with  ready 


378  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

accuracy,  suffered  like  the  woman  in  the  roverb : 
she  was  too  much  convinced  against  her  will. 

With  one  eye  to  Mary's  interest  and  the  other  to 

her  own,  Mrs.  L proposed  that  Mary  spend  her 

vacation  in  her  (Mrs.  L —  — 's)  own  country  farm- 
house, doing  light  work  for  her  board.  Mary  had 
other  plans — at  least,  she  did  not  approve 
of  that  one;  which  was  a  pity,  for  the 

plan      was      excellent.      Mrs.       L insisted, 

however,  and  Mary,  being  unable  to  resist, 
yielded.  Neither  of  the  two  could,  of  course,  fore- 
see that  the  girl  would  give  out  so  suddenly  and  so 
completely  under  the  threefold  strain  to  which  she 
had  lately  been  subjected.  The  vacation  had  scarcely 
begun  when  Mary  became  alarmingly  ill,  and 

Mrs.    L began    to  care    for    her    personally, 

at  which  Mary  grew  especially  ,  uneasy,  as 
though  her  burden  of  obligation  were  too 
heavy.  She  was  not  ungrateful — far  from  it 
— but  while  recognizing  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  L— 
she  was  unreasonable  enough  to  wish  herself 
in  a  city  hospital.  Before  she  was  really 
able,  indeed,  she  began  to  talk  about  going  back  to 
the  city.  .And  Mrs.  L—  -  said  "no." 

"I  understand  Mary  thoroughly;  I  have  studied 
her,  I  know  what  she  needs  better  than  she  does, 
and  what  I  have  arranged  is  for  her  good.  She 
is  better^off  where  she  is  than  she  would  be  in  the 
hot  city,  and  I've  told  her  I  expect  her  to  stay  here 
until  she  is  able  to  work  again." 

And  Mary  stayed,  though  in  a  fever  of  impatience 
to  be  gone ;  but  it  was  clear  that  she  could  not  go 
without  the  unpleasantness  of  a  final  break.  Really, 
one  could  not  blame  Mary  for  feeling  that  her  affairs 


AFTERTHOUGHT  379 

had  been  ordered  with  rather  a  high  hand.  Yet 
materially  and  under  the  peculiar  circumstances, 
Mrs.  L—  -'s  plan  seemed  most  wise,  and  except  for 
the  stupendous  error  of  her  major  premises,  above 
criticism.  With  the  willing  acquiescence  of  Mary  it 
would  have  been  as  perfect  as  anything  can  be, 
planned  without  full  knowledge  of  what  is  to  come. 
But  consider  the  assurance,  the  prescience,  the 
audacity  one  must  need,  consciously  to  take 
Mrs.  L—  -'s  stand.  How  can  one  woman  be  sure 
that  she  knows  another  thoroughly  ?  How  can  one 
be  sure  what  is  best  for  another,  or  dare  to  assume 
the  direction  of  a  free  adult  ? 

There  is  excuse  for  Mrs.  L in  her  honest 

intent  to  do  good;  and  in  that,  from  very 
faithfulness  and  generosity,  Mary  could  regularly 
be  counted  on  to  choose  for  herself  the 
plan  which  seemed  the  least  desirable.  Yet  the 
general  way  of  helping  other  people — by 
opinion  and  suggestion,  and  then  leaving 
them  to  a  free  choice,  would  seem  equally  judicious 
for  domestic  girls.  We  are  not  a  class  of  scholars, 
we  housemaids,  and  some  of  us  are  as  flighty  and 
erratic  as  workers  in  other  trades,  but  I  have  yet  to 
see  one  in  my  late  line  of  work  who  does  not  prefer 
to  do  as  she  would  rather. 

After  all,  the  sum  of  knowledge  is  not  in  Latin 
declension,  or  in  the  crossing  of  Euclid's  pons,  and 
all  wisdom  is  not  in  books.  I  read  almost  nothing 
(cook-book  excepted)  during  all  the  nine  months  I 
was  a  living-out  girl,  and  save  that  period  of  infancy 
when  I  began  to  walk,  talk  and  acquire  vocabulary, 
I  have  not  learned  so  much  of  value  in  any  other 
one  year.  From  people,  from  books  and  from 


380  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

travel — three  famous  ways  of  acquisition,  and  the 
first  is  the  oldest.  A  housekeeper  and  her  family 
make  very  good  text-books,  and  some  maids  go 
through  a  good  many  different  sets,  and  come  out 
shrewd  enough  for  a  third  degree.  In  all  seriousness, 
it  seems  hardly  just,  somehow,  that  women  who 
understand  themselves,  their  work  and  their  kind, 
who  have  as  firm  a  grip  on  what  is  vital  in  existence 
as  most  of  the  older  domestic  workers  I  have  known, 
should  be  classed  as  ignorant.  Even  Anna,  who 
was  young  and  suspicious,  I  found  more  satisfactory 
than  some  college  graduates  I  could  call  by  name. 

Does  not  domestic  work  of  itself  develop  the 
individual  mentality  as  factory  work  cannot?  Or 
is  it  that  the  field  of  observation  is  wider,  and  that 
more  chance  is  given  for  contact  with  people  of 
different  sorts?  Compare  the  unending  punching 
of  eyelets  among  the  same  class  of  workers,  and  its 
probable  contribution  to  individual  development. 
Yet  would  an  eyelet -puncher  consider  domestic 
employ?  Her  friends  might  look  down  upon  her. 
Gretchen's  friends  knew  her  no  more  when  she  went 
to  live  out,  for  the  social  gap  between  a  housemaid 
and  a  label  paster,  a  housemaid  and  a  girl  who  tends 
store,  a  housemaid  and  a  seamstress,  is  like  that 
between  the  housemaid  and  her  employer — wide 
enough.  It  would  be  comic  if  it  were  not  so  pathetic. 

But  how  can  the  label  pasters,  the  storetenders 
and  the  dressmaking  apprentices  be  criticized  for 
copying  the  supposedly  more  enlightened  who,  in 
one  way  or  another,  have  chosen  to  discriminate 
against  domestic  workers  as  a  class  ? 

Even  my  friend  C ,  with  her  passion  for 

helping  people — she  has  breathed  it  in  with  the  air 


AFTERTHOUGHT  381 

from  babyhood,  that  even  as  the  greatest  teacher 
the  world  ever  saw  was  a  poor  carpenter  lad,  occupa- 
tion can  never  be  the  trusted  measure  of  mind,  or  cir- 
cumstance the  gage  of  personal  worth.  I  read  to 
her  the  following  item: 

"An  intelligent,  well-dressed,  modest-appearing 
young  woman,  apparently  a  teacher  in  a  neighboring 
school,  called  at  a  public  library  for  a  book.  •  The 
attendant  made  out  the  record  and  gave  her  what 
she  wanted. 

"'Oh,  wait  one  moment,  please/  said  the  attend- 
ant; 'what  is  your  occupation?' 

' '  I  am  a  house  servant,'  was  the  answer. 

' '  I'm  very  sorry,  then,  but  I  cannot  let  you  have 
the  book  without  a  written  voucher  from  your 
employer.  It  is  the  rule  for  children  and  servants. ' ' 

"Well,  of  course,  that  was  a  necessary  rule  proba- 
bly. A  servant  very  likely  wouldn't  know  how  to 
take  care  of  a  book.  They  aren't  all  like  you,  you 
know,"  was  the  comment  of  my  friend. 

Humph !  Are  all  other  workers  bibliophilists 
from  instinct  ?  It  is  hard  to  think  so  after  looking 
over  the  shelves  of  the  poorer  class  fiction  in  a 
public  collection. 

"The  distinction  is  customary,"  was  the  defense 
offered. 

Like  Miss  Margaret  Wetherly,  Mrs.  Hollis  once 
said:  "  I  do  not  think  any  less  of  a  girl  because  she 
does  housework  for  a  living,  Eliza."  Also,  while  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Hollis  were  away,  Miss  Caroline  used 
their  room,  giving  up  her  bed  to  Ann,  temporarily. 


382  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

The  sisters  seemed  to  feel  that  they  were  safer  so, 
for  some  peculiar  reason. 

"  There  ain't  many  people  that  would  have  the 
girl  sleeping  in  their  bed,"  said  Anna,  "with  all 
those  lovely  things  in  the  room." 

Mrs.  Hollis  told  me  of  a  friend  who  closed  her 
house  to  travel  in  Europe ;  partly  in  quotation,  it  is 
true,  yet  with  seeming  sympathy  for  her  friend's 
position.  When  the  boat  had  really  sailed,  the 
friend  found,  to  her  unutterable  astonishment, 
that  she  had  her  own  chambermaid  for  a  fellow 
passenger.  The  girl  had  taken  a  first-class  passage 
and  secured  a  stateroom  next  to  that  of  her  old 
employer. 

"Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Hollis,  "the  girl  had  paid 
her  money  and  had  as  good  a  right  to  her  stateroom 
as  the  lady.  But  it  put  the  two  in  a  new  relation 
and  they  were  constantly  meeting.  The  lady  just 
had  to  recognize  the  girl ;  she  couldn't  do  any  other 
way  without  being  really  horrid. 

"But  the  girl,  as  much  surprised  as  the  lady, 
behaved  beautifully.  'If  I'd  known  it,'  she  said, 
'I'd  have  taken  another  boat,  but  I'll  not  make  it 
unpleasant  for  you/  The  girl  kept  with  her  own 
friends  or  by  herself  all  the  way  over,  so  there  was 
as  little  awkwardness  as  possible.  She  was  a  nice 
girl,  anyway,  and  the  lady,  as  her  employer,  had 
liked  her  personally." 

Why,  then,  in  the  name  of  common  sense,  should 
there  have  been  any  question  of  recognition? 
Why,  in  the  decency  of  nature,  should  there  have 
been  any  shadow  of  awkwardness  ? 

"Society  decrees  it,"  was  the  only  answer  Mrs. 
Hollis  could  give;  "though  it  doesn't  seem  right  on 


AFTERTHOUGHT  383 

some  accounts,  I'll  acknowledge,"  was  the  addition 
she  felt  forced  to  make. 

Even  the  questions  asked  about  domestic  workers 
are  not  insignificant.  "  What  do  these  people  spend 
their  money  for?"  is  a  favourite;  also,  "Wasn't  it 
very  disagreeable  rooming  with  them,  as  you 
had  to?" 

Who  thinks  of  asking  how  the  girls  who  live  at 
home  and  work  in  stores  and  offices  spend  their 
earnings?  All  the  housemaids  I  have  ever  known 
of  have  used  their  money  as  I  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  use  mine — for  what  was  needed  or  wanted. 
But  my  fellow  workers  all  went  me  one  better  in 
that  they  had  a  balance  left  over  current  expenses 
—the  reward  for  working  steadily  in  one  place. 
Frieda  had  a  bank  account  and  a  choice  lot  of 
garments.  Gretchen  helped  her  family  and  paid 
doctors'  bills,  chiefly.  Anna  had  bought  clothes 
and  taken  a  trip  across  the  water,  and  generally, 
when  she  came  in  from  an  outing,  she  had  a  maga- 
zine of  some  sort.  Tilly  was  saving  against  a  rainy 
day.  When  it  conies  to  roommates,  I  found  a 
double  bed  for  Frieda  and  me  more  to  my  mind  than 
the  whole  Scharff  estate  for  Mrs.  Scharff  and  me, 
or  all  X—  -  Street  for  Mrs.  Kjnderlieber  and  me. 
Domestic  workers,  in  general,  I  believe  to  be  quite 
as  cleanly  as  circumstances  allow  or  as  their 
employers  would  be  were  their  positions  reversed. 

There  was  a  time  in  the  older  days  when  such 
prejudice  had  not  come  to  be,  if  what  the  books  tell 
us  be  true;  when  modest  respectability  did  not 
apologize  for  sharing  actively  in  the  work  of  her 
own  house  or  commonly  excuse  its  untidiness  by 
the  lack  of  a  helper. 


384  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

But  all  life  was  more  simple  then,  and  tranquillity 
blessed  the  working  world.  Wild  dreams  of  strikes 
and  other  industrial  perturbations  did  not  come 
a-haunting  the  pillows  of  our  very  great  grand- 
fathers. Then  the  capitalists  were  master  workmen, 
working  alongside  the  common  labourer  and  appren- 
tices and  meeting  them  in  friendly  relations  after 
hours — a  condition  which  was  equally  true  in  the 
feminine  industries.  The  well-to-do  dame  worked 
with  her  maidens,  who  were  also  the  frequent  com- 
panions of  her  leisure.  Those  were  the  days  of 
"help. "  Independent,  self-respecting,  efficient  help 
it  was,  too,  recruited  from  the  daughters  of  respect- 
able artisans  or  farmers  of  the  region,  and  quite 
worthy  of  the  favourable  notice  won  from  visiting 
Europeans.  "The  help  made  part  of  the  family, 
eating  at  the  same  table  and  occasionally  taking 
part  in  the  conversation."  There  were  no 
uniforms  then,  or  orders,  or  requirements  for  per- 
sonal service ;  instead,  there  were  requests,  and  con- 
sultations over  the  work,  mutual  respect  without 
obsequiousness,  and  cheerful,  willing  service. 

That  time  of  simplicity  seems  to  have  passed; 
and  its  conditions,  especially  peculiar  of  New 
England,  we  know  no  more  save  as  here  and  there 
among  farmers  and  country-bred  people  we  find  a 
survival  so  true  to  our  traditions  that  it  might  be  a 
picture  cut  from  the  period.  One  such  there  is  in 
the  home  of  my  friend  Mrs.  Barnes,  where  a  gray- 
haired  Martha  is  now  giving  her  twenty-sixth  year 
of  service. 

Those  twenty-six  years  were  not  one  long  summer- 
day  picnic,  nor  were  they  lacking  in  opportunity  for 
strong  patience;  especially  between  December  and 


AFTERTHOUGHT  385 

April,  when  old  Boreas  chose  to  rush  straight  from 
the  North  and  play  hide-and-seek  with  himself 
through  the  loose-fitting  windows  and  doors  of  ye 
ancient  kitchen,  as  he  did  thrice  in  the  four  weeks  I 
was  there.  How  Martha  could  endure  to  work  a 
whole  morning  in  such  a  temperature — and  in  the 
face  of  protest — I  did  not  see.  No  more  did  Mrs. 
Barnes,  but  Martha  said  that  the  next  day  would 
bring  its  own  work. 

"  Martha  is  like  an  older  sister  to  us,  we  have 
depended  upon  her,  loved  and  trusted  her  so  many 
years,"  said  Mrs.  Barnes.  "I  could  not  possibly 
think  of  her  as  a  servant,  and  except  when  pay-day 
comes  I  don't  remember  that  I  am  an  employer, 
even.  We  are  friends,  and  bear  with  each  other's 
peculiarities  according  to  the  grace  that  is  in  us. " 

Imagine  Mrs.  Scharff  or  Miss  Wetherly  mending 
stockings  for  me  on  a  Saturday  afternoon  because 
I  had  been  too  busy  all  the  week !  Mrs.  Barnes 
did  not  appear  to  consider  that  she  was  doing 
anything  out  of  the  ordinary. 

The  household  labour  was  managed  coopera- 
tively, both  as  to  the  planning  and  as  to  the  actual 
work.  It  was  said  that  Martha  did  all  but  the 
cooking,  which  Mrs. T  Barnes  liked  to  keep  for  her 
own  part;  but  Martha  was  competent  for  that  as 
for  the  rest,  and  Mrs.  Barnes  always  helped  around 
with  the  other  work.  There  were  no  banisters  to 
be  chamoised  twice  a  day  at  Mrs.  Barnes's  home, 
and  no  ever-tinkling  doorbell  to  answer ;  and  alas ! 
neither  set  tubs  nor  hot  and  cold  water.  But  there 
was  churning,  the  cleaning  of  tripe  when  a  beef  was 
killed,  and  sometimes  the  bringing  of  water  from 
the  spring,  yards  distant  from  the  house;  and  in 


386  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

summer  the  gathering  in  from  the  garden,  as  well 
as  the  after  preparing,  of  the  vegetables,  etc. 
Besides  this,  when  Mr.  Barnes  was  away  or 
late  in  returning,  Martha  voluntarily  assumed  the 
"chores." 

And  what  for  ?  For  more  than  one  dollar  and  a 
half  per  week — the  average  wage  of  indoor  help  in 
that  section ;  her  place  at  table,  save  when  there  is 
company  and  she  waits  upon  them,  in  the  sitting- 
room  when  her  work  is  done,  and  in  the  carryall 
when  Hector  and  Andromache  take  them  all  to 
church.  She  has  one  of  the  pleasantest  chambers 
on  the  sunny  side  of  the  house,  and  a  home,  with  a 
wealth  of  young  affection  such  as  money  cannot  buy. 
Martha  was  once  a  welcome  guest  at  the  boarding- 
school  where  the  young  Barnes  maidens  fitted 
for  college.  And  the  wage  really  isn't  so  small  when 
one  considers  the  slight  need  and  less  temptation  to 
spend.  Martha  has  a  small  financial  independence, 
is  respected  in  the  community,  and  interested  in  her 
church  and  its  work.  She  would  share  the  Barnes 
pew  if  it  were  not  that  she  preferred  a  sitting  of  her 
own. 

"There  are  a  good  many  like  Martha  hereabouts  ? " 
I  ventured. 

"  I  do  not  know  of  another, "  was  the  answer. 

"Most  of  Martha's  generation  are  either  married, 
with  homes  of  their  own,  or  dead;  and  none  have 
risen  up  to  take  their  places.  The  farmers'  daugh- 
ters all  teach  school  nowadays.  Occasionally  one  is 
glad  to  earn  a  little  pin  money  by  working  for  a  little 
while  in  a  neighbour's  house,  but  she  is  there  as  a 
friend,  not  as  a  wage-earner;  and  when  the  special 
need  is  over  she  goes  home  again. 


AFTERTHOUGHT  387 

"A  country  girl  would  not  work  in  a  village 
home,"  I  suggested. 

"  Dear  no  !  for  then  she  would  have  to  eat  in  the 
kitchen  and  receive  her  callers  at  the  back  door.  It 
is  almost  impossible  for  a  housekeeper  of  the  region 
to  get  help  in  the  village  or  out  of  it. " 

One  does  not  seek  far  for  reasons.  Years  ago  the 
invention  of  machinery  brought  the  factories  and 
the  big  manufacturing  cities  along  the  river  banks. 
And  the  coming  of  these  marked  a  new  era  in  the 
industrial  world.  In  the  factories  women  as  well  as 
men  found  plenty  of  work,  specialized,  and  easy  to 
learn,  within  definite  fixed  hours,  with  a  higher  wage, 
and  the  one  day  in  seven  entirely  free.  The  people 
who  had  been  making  the  one  thousand  and  one 
things  prepared  in  each  household  for  its  own  use 
or  for  exchange  at  a  neighbourhood  fair  flocked  to 
the  factories  to  tend  machines  doing  a  single  part  in 
the  making  of  any  one  of  those  one  thousand 
and  one  things  that  come  out  of  the  factories  in 
such  quantity  and  so  cheaply.  The  workers 
reveled  in  the  greater  independence  of  factory 
life,  and  deserted  the  little  shops,  the  farms  and 
the  single  households  in  such  numbers  as  to  cause 
a  help  famine,  not  yet  passed  in  some  districts 

In  such  wise  the  domestic  system  of  labour  yielded 
place  and  workers  to  the  factory  system,  and  for 
a  working  woman  there  was  one  more  opportunity. 
Marriage,  domestic  service,  tailoring,  and  the  dame 
school,  had  a  rival. 

Almost  immediately  a  young  woman  of  Massa- 
chusetts awoke  one  morning  to  the  fact  that  she 
had  a  mission,  which  was  to  break  up  a  corner  in 
education.  The  "female  seminaries"  became  a 


388  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

popular  fact,  their  courses  of  study  grew  longer 
and  harder,  and  the  young  women  came  out  of 
them  nearer  and  nearer  the  five  hundred  and  more 
"professions  open  to  women"  now  achieved. 

With  the  increasing  population  came  greater 
business  activity,  greater  wealth,  more  luxurious 
ways  of  living  and — the  sewing  machine.  An  ever- 
increasing  demand  for  household  labourers,  along 
with  the  decreasing  supply.  What  would  have 
happened  if  the  great  foreign  immigrations  had  not 
set  in  it  is  hard  to  tell.  Enforced  simplicity  of 
living,  perhaps,  less  to  be  deplored  than  the  present 
lack  of  it. 

But  the  foreign  helpers  did  come  in  droves ;  some 
with  a  good  home  training  in  the  rudiments  of  house- 
wifery and  with  a  proper  respect  for  the  decalogue ; 
some  unable  to  learn  a  chafing-dish  from  a  warming- 
pan  or  the  use  of  either,  and  holding  the  ten  laws 
of  Moses  as  too  sacred  for  daily  use.  These  could 
not  go  in  where  our  own  ' '  help ' '  had  gone  out .  They 
knew  not  our  ways.  But  we  could  learn  what  they 
had  known — they  brought  something  of  the 
European  spirit  with  them,  no  doubt — and  our 
class  distinction  took  root. 

How  to  fix  the  fault  but  upon  human  nature 
and  the  conditions  ?  But  is  it  not  a  strange  growth 
for  American  soil !  Our  free  air  is  ill  adapted,  and 
perhaps  the  ax  of  the  destroyer  might  be  laid  to  the 
root  advantageously,  since  our  mechanics'  trades, 
business  concerns  and  the  holdings  of  our  popular 
government  do  not  allow  the  delusion  that  a  race 
prejudice  supplies  it  life.  Of  course,  the  workers 
themselves  were  the  first  cause.  The  uncouthness, 
intractibility  and  unreliability  of  many  of  them, 


AFTERTHOUGHT  389 

past  and  present,  cannot  be  denied.  And  they 
came  so  suddenly,  and  we  were  unprepared.  But  is 
there  any  trade  or  profession  without  its  unworthy 
ones? 

Some  of  this  imported  raw  material  was  spoiled 
before  it  ever  saw  America,  be  it  granted;  yet  it 
would  be  strange  indeed  if  some  had  not  been 
spoiled  afterward  and  then  anathematized  for 
domestic  disaster  of  which  it  was  the  instrument 
rather  than  the  cause.  Injudicious  mothers,  encour- 
aging daughters  in  the  idea  that  they  are  too  much 
of  the  lady  to  know  how  to  work,  too  good  to  know 
how  properly  to  care  for  themselves,  would  do  well 
to  pattern  after  royalty.  Good  Queen  Louise,  of 
Denmark,  with  her  well-trained  princesses,  must 
have  been  able  to  weather  a  domestic  strike  very 
comfortably  without  help  from  outside.  And 
thoughtless  daughters  ought  somehow,  between 
the  distractions  of  society  and  the  pinnacles  of 
education,  to  snatch  a  little  time  for  the  gaining  of 
wisdom.  Our  literature  has  a  very  old  parable 
about  a  builder  who  did  not  regard  the  foundations. 

Being  a  woman,  I  prefer  to  believe  that  a  woman 
differs  somewhat  from  the  flowers,  in  the  breadth  of 
purpose  she  was  intended  to  serve.  And  being,  as 
I  hope,  not  entirely  devoid  of  judgment  and  experi- 
ence, I  venture  the  opinion  that  the  scrubbing  of  a 
floor  is  fraught  with  no  more  danger  to  the  well- 
being  of  a  young  girl  than  a  dance  of  twelve  numbers. 
There  was  a  wise  law  in  effect  among  the  ancient 
Hebrews  which  our  political  forefathers  had  done 
well  to  incorporate  in  the  Constitution.  It  enjoined 
the  learning  of  a  trade  upon  every  son  of  the  nation. 
But  for  this  country,  so  long  as  the  American  home 


390  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

remains  upon  its  present  basis,  there  should  be  an 
amendment  for  daughters,  requiring  a  thorough 
practical  knowledge  of  domestic  matters;  which  is 
to  say,  an  adequate  apprenticeship  at  the  actual 
work.  A  thorough  practical  knowledge  means 
more  than  such  items  of  intelligence  as  that  mint 
sauce  is  agreeable  with  spring  lamb.  Inasmuch 
as  it  is  the  basis  of  all  else,  it  would  seem  as  if  the 
knowing  how  to  live  right  physically  were  the  first 
business  of  intelligent  living  creatures,  especially  of 
those  who  assume  management  of  living  conditions 
for  a  little  community.  Yet  the  rashness  with  which 
women  continue  to  plunge  themselves  and  their 
families  into  positions  of  utter  helplessness  and 
dependence  upon  shifting  ignorance  and  indifference, 
so  recognized,  and  in  a  matter  where  the  results  are 
of  such  vital  importance,  truly  amazes.  For  people 
who  complain  that  they  live  on  the  side  of  a  volcano 
and  then  do  not  prepare  for  an  eruption,  there  is 
little  virtue  in  blaming  the  volcano. 

Moreover,  it  has  been  declared  that  "work,  manual 
work,  and  that,  too,  of  a  resolute  kind,  is  absolutely 
necessary  for  every  man."  Such  experience  brings 
power,  truly.  Miss  Eleanor  Wetherly  explained 
her  success  in  art — unusual  success  beyond  that  of 
her  fellows  or  predecessors — by  her  experience  of 
practical  affairs,  of  domestic  work  and  workers; 
washing,  ironing,  cooking,  cleaning,  and  the  many 
girls  to  whom  she  had  shown  the  way  of  those 
things.  Does  it  not  seem  reasonable  ?  Miss  Eleanor 
took  more  to  her  work  than  the  rest.  Perhaps  a 
psychologist  could  tell  something  of  the  quality  of 
mental  grasp  and  vigour  directly  dependable  upon 
manual  skill  or  practice. 


AFTERTHOUGHT  391 

There  are  cheering  signs.  The  leaven  of  domestic 
science  is  working.  There  is  manual  training  in  the 
elementary  public  schools.  The  interest  in  the 
cooking-school  grows  apace.  Moreover,  one  recent 
college  graduate  of  whom  I  personally  know,  as 
housekeeper  for  a  good-sized  academic  school, 
is  applying  her  domestic  science  courses  with 
three  notable  results.  During  the  first  year 
of  her  experience  she  saved  two  hundred  dollars 
out  of  the  customary  appropriation  for  he;" 
department;  and  what  is  more  important, 
students  as  well  as  authorities  have  declared  with 
enthusiasm  that  they  never  lived  so  well.  Also, 
the  housekeeper  likes  her  work.  Two  more  young 
college  women  I  know  who  are  enthusiastic  over  the 
work  falling  to  the  office  of  *  'mother's  help." 

Is  it  not  time  that  the  tendency  to  regard  educa- 
tion as  a  social  elevator,  or  as  a  bid  for  a  bigger 
dollar  interest,  should  pass  from  us?  Education  is 
the  individual's  preparation  for  life,  and  so  for  her 
chosen  work,  chosen  with  regard  to  the  need  and  the 
individual  fitness.  By  what  right  does  the  opinion 
of  Mrs.  Grundy  weigh  in  the  matter?  The  effect 
of  a  trained  mind  on  any  labour  is  to  dignify  that 
labour — it  is  a  truism.  It  is  also  a  fact  that  the 
innate  dignity  of  domestic  labour  is  sufficient,  if 
people  would  only  see  it. 

Regarding  the  servitors,  however,  the  signs  of 
cheer  are  not  so  positive.  Attempts  unnumbered 
have  been  made  to  establish  or  raise  a  standard 
of  excellence  in  work  ;  and  training-school  after 
training-school  has  been  started  to  that  end,  under 
the  most  favourable  auspices,  only  to  fail  after  a  year 
or  so  from  lack  of  applicant  pupils.  What  other 


392  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

issue  can  one  expect  so  long  as  domestic  service 
continues  in  its  present  social  disfavour,  so  long 
as  any  number  of  places  may  be  had  for  the  usual 
wage  and  without  special  training?  Who  has 
wisdom  so  great  that  she  can  find  the  reason  for  the 
proverbial  exception  ?  Why  can  Boston  only  carry 
on  a  "Training  School  for  Domestics" — so  adver- 
tised— for  twenty-three  years  in  successful  working 
and  with  pupils  enrolled  to  the  limit  of  its  capacity  ? 
Other  cities  offer  all  sorts  of  domestic  instruction  to 
housekeepers,  and  frequently,  where  no  class  distinc- 
tion is  made,  the  evening  sessions  show  a  small 
representation  from  the  serving  class — to  their 
avowed  profit.  So  individual  effort,  private  home 
instruction  by  intelligent  employer  to  employee,  is 
perhaps  the  most  effective  means  of  enlightenment 
at  present. 

Of  the  results  attained  by  this  method  one  can 
scarcely  speak  definitely,  and  of  the  method  itself 
the  intelligent  employer  can  scarcely  think  hopefully. 
If  only  the  workers  were  more  competent  or  more 
teachable,  they  moan.  They  need  sympathy. 

But  practically — socially  and  industrially — do- 
mestic work  lifted  from  the  top  is  not  domestic 
service  raised  from  the  bottom.  While  it  seems 
true  even  under  the  present  conditions  that  a 
housemaid  in  "a  good  place  with  a  nice  lady"  is 
materially  better  off  than  her  sister  on  a  small  wage 
in  a  store  or  shop,  and  while  it  would  still  be  my 
chosen  bridge  over  a  financial  "hole,"  I  do  not 
recommend  the  advantages  of  living  out  so  urgently 
as  before  my  late  experience.  It  has  become  quite 
comprehensible  how  a  working  woman  can  choose 
otherwise. 


AFTERTHOUGHT  393 

Household  employment,  following  rather  closely 
the  requirements  of  the  old  domestic  system  of 
labour,  suffers  in  comparison  with  almost  every 
other  kind  of  work.  For  Simon  Tappertit,  as  for 
Miggs,  there  was  in  the  beginning  but  one  and  the 
same  way.  But  Simon  Tappertit's  manly  legs 
have  carried  him  to  greater  industrial  freedom; 
while  Miggs  still  looks  at  the  world  from  the  far  side 
of  the  fence.  If  this  be  indeed  the  woman's  age, 
and  the  household  workers  choose  to  lift  the  bars 
before  them,  who  shall  say  them  nay  ?  The  expos- 
tulation of  the  unwise  cannot  "reverse  the  industrial 
tendency  of  the  age."  Labour  combinations  of 
some  sort  have  marked  every  age  since  industrial 
history  began.  They  are  a  legitimate  means  for 
securing  arrangements  between  employer  and  em- 
ployed, for  discovering  and  dealing  with  real 
causes  of  discontent,  and,  wisely  ordered,  they  make 
for  mutual  protection.  A  union  of  the  domestic 
workers — under  wise  leadership — with  powers  akin 
to  those  of  the  old  craft  guilds  and  concerned  first 
of  all  with  its  own  good  repute,  would  qualify  for 
work  only  the  morally  reliable  and  those  by  habit 
fit  for  positions  in  respectable  homes.  It  would 
take  measures  to  secure  for  the  ignorant  and 
inexperienced  a  regular  apprenticeship  at  some 
training-school;  its  office  would  be  the  intelligence 
bureau;  its  delegates  might  meet  with  represent- 
atives from  the  employers  for  friendly  arbitration 
upon  matters  in  dispute. 

Such  a  picture  gives  room  for  any  amount 
of  attractive  detail.  At  any  rate,  it  is  due 
to  the  employers  to  give  what  fair  honest  help 
they  may  to  the  women  whose  toil  makes  for 


394  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

their  comfort;  for  the  spirit  of  opposition  has 
not  just  begun  to  breathe  in  defense,  and  the 
"gulf"  is  no  new  thing.  One  quells  discontent 
by  removing  or  modifying  the  causes  (note  plural), 
which  must  first  be  discovered  and  proven;  and 
noblesse  oblige. 

A  few  more  evolutionary  stages,  a  nearer  approach 
to  the  old  apostolic  spirit  of  universal  love,  the 
coming  of  really  consecrated  leaders  and  the 
passing  of  bosses,  may  solve  our  social  difficulties, 
domestic  and  other.  Meantime,  the  individual 
employer  must  struggle  with  her  own  difficulties. 
What  plan  is  best  for  her  she  alone  knows,  or  should 
know.  Actual  experience  of  that  side  of  the  ques- 
tion, the  housekeeper's  side,  has  been  spared  me. 
Did  I  see  it  coming  I  should  begin  to  pray  imme- 
diately for  the  necessary  number  of  "old  family 
servants,"  and  most  cheerfully  would  I  spend  my 
days  and  nights  in  the  effort  to  realize  in  myself 
their  ideals,  to  be  worthy  of  such  rare  and  peculiar 
blessing. 

But  one's  faith  in  such  petition  could  not  in  reason 
be  of  the  sort  that  moves  mountains.  As  a  house- 
keeper, then,  coping  with  present  conditions,  there 
would  be  framed  in  my  constitution  several  unalter- 
able rules: 

1.  Never  under  any  consideration  will  I  engage 
an  applicant  whose  face  and  bearing  do  not  in  my 
judgment    declare    her     worthy.      My    need    for 
"somebody"   shall  not    entrap    me    into    taking 
"anybody." 

2.  Shall   I    ever    fail    to    remember    that    the 
employee  is  as  worthy  consideration  and  fairness 
as   her  employer  ought  to   be?     I  trust   I   shall 


AFTERTHOUGHT  395 

remember,  the  days  of  slavery  being  passed,  that 
my  girl,  cook  or  other  maid  is  not  my  property, 
and  that  she  is  entirely  free  to  leave  my  employ  for 
that  of  any  other  housekeeper  who  shall  make  it 
worth  her  while — as  free  as  the  wind  that  blows. 
Nor  shall  I  blackguard  the  more  fortunate  woman 
who  can  offer  superior  attractions.  Just  why  the 
salaries  of  all  cooks  should  be  uniform  any  more  than 
the  salaries  of  all  private  secretaries  should  be 
uniform,  or  just  why  a  domestic  employee  alone  of 
all  workers  should  not  be  open  to  business  proposi- 
tions from  other  houses  while  still  in  employ,  it  is 
beyond  human  ingenuity  to  discover.  Finite  mind 
can  find  no  just  or  rational  support  for  the  present 
strong  social  sentiment  to  the  contrary. 

3.  Keeping  house  with  a  hired  helper  is  the 
conduct  of  important  business.  All  understandings 
and  plans  should  be  on  a  business  basis  from  the 
start.  The  cooperative  and  profit-sharing  scheme 
proposed  by  Professor  Lucy  M.  Salmon  and  tried 
so  satisfactorily  by  many  housekeepers  commends 
itself.  Briefly,  it  involves  a  system  of  accounts — 
which  I  loathe ;  a  periodical  taking  account  of  stock, 
and  a  sharing  of  the  balance  over  the  average 
allowance  for  provisions,  breakage  and  wear  in  the 
different  departments,  saved  by  the  economy  and 
carefulness  of  the  worker  with  her  materials.  It 
means  more  work  for  the  housekeeper,  of  course, 
but,  as  Mr.  Scharff  said,  "What  can  you  expect 
when  you  don't  attend  to  business?"  But  the 
plan  supplies  a  needed  incentive,  and  is  something 
of  a  substitute  for  promotion  in  office.  All 
workers  are  not  so  painfully  anxious  to  excel 
for  its  own  sake  as  I — I  have  the  word  of  the 


3g6  TOILERS  OF  THE  HOME 

Misses  Wetherly  for  it.  Moreover,  it  is  too  much 
to  expect  a  ''good  girl"  of  average  capacity— 
unless  the  world  have  dealt  with  her  too  hardly 
— to  sacrifice  her  few  chances  of  material  better- 
ment upon  the  altar  of  personal  devotion.  I 
shall  also,  so  far  as  the  conditions  allow, 
experiment  with  non-resident  labour. 

4.  I  do  not  take  kindly  to  the  idea  of  educating 
any  possible  employees  from  the  kindergarten  up, 
though  I  should  expect  to  teach  them  my  peculiar 
preferences  with  patience  and  firmness.     But  espe- 
cially if  there  is  more  than  one  maid,  none  but  experi- 
enced and  competent  cooks  need  apply.     And  again, 
especially,  I  shall  not  any  more  look  for  domestic 
excellence  in  a  factory-bred  American.     The  second 
generation  of  factory  workers  is  said  to  be  inferior 
physically  and  mentally,  if  not  morally;  and  the 
third   generation   the   last.     How   can   a   woman, 
working  ten  or  eleven  hours  in  the  stifle  and  whirr, 
as  her  mother  worked  before  her,  practise,  teach, 
or  know  aught  of  practical  home-making  ? 

5.  I  shall  ask  my  employees  what  they  would  like 
me   to   call    them.      If   the   waitress   says    "Mrs. 
Strofonowsky, "  Mrs.  Strofonowsky  she  shall  be— 
one  may  sometimes  say  "waitress"  for  short,  as  one 
says  "doctor"  or  "nurse." 

I  like  a  uniform  for  indoor  wear  on  the  ground  of 
neatness  and  convenience.  I  do  not  like  a  livery. 
Personal  service  is  demoralizing ;  save  upon  old  age, 
illness,  and  infancy  there  shall  be  no  such  demand  in 
my  house.  When  I  cook  messes  in  the  kitchen,  I 
shall  do  so  only  on  the  cook's  afternoon  out,  and  the 
chambermaid  will  come  down  only  in  time  to  serve 
the  dinner.  And  in  general,  having  satisfied  myself 


AFTERTHOUGHT  397 

of  the  general  character  and  orderliness  of  the  worker 
in  her  workroom,  I  shall  keep  out  of  the  kitchen. 
Frieda  said:  "Nice  ladies  come  into  the  kitchen 
never.  Nice  ladies  always  speak  with  me  in  the 
dining-room."  I  want  to  be  a  nice  lady. 

6.  And  finally.  When  I  begin  to  have  the  fidgets 
and  much  anxiety  over  my  employees,  when  I  per- 
ceive in  myself  an  inclination  to  fret  and  nag,  or 
explode,  it  shall  be  a  clear  sign  that  I  need  to  retire 
from  business — a  housekeeper,  a  term  of  boarding, 
or  travel,  or  sanitarium,  or  the  simplifying  of  my 
way  of  living  by  doing  myself  what  cannot  be  done 
away  with  altogether.  And  Mrs.  Grundy  may 
speak  of  me  as  of  one  touring  abroad,  if  she  cares  to. 

Even  for  a  living-out  girl  it  is  easy  to  say  what 
one  would  do.  But  the  problem  of  domestic  help 
unfolds  to  prodigious  size.  Far  be  it  from  Eliza 
even  to  pretend  to  know  anything  about  it. 

THE  END. 


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